


Diamonds in the Sky

by Missjlh



Series: Eyes on the Sky [1]
Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Parental Figures, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Disorder, Child Abuse, De Sardet is awkward as hell, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kurt is basically De Sardet’s big brother, Post-Canon, Prince d’Orsay is a garbage human, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, canon character death, loving and healthy romantic relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:15:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 127,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23857465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missjlh/pseuds/Missjlh
Summary: Elizabet De Sardet is awkward in love and sex, and is terribly infatuated with the captain of the Sea Horse, much to the amusement of everyone around her. Rating upped to explicit as of chapter 12.
Relationships: De Sardet/Vasco (GreedFall)
Series: Eyes on the Sky [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785805
Comments: 104
Kudos: 90





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning:
> 
> Please note that there is an instance of physical abuse in this chapter and references to past child abuse. It is not detailed, but if this is something that could be painful for you, I would recommend skipping the flashback portion of the chapter.

It’s a week into their voyage to Tír Fradí and Elizabet is once again sitting on the deck of the Sea Horse. Kurt has joined her for the first time this morning, having finally earned his sea legs; he has gone a full 12 hours without shoving his head in a bucket and emptying the contents of his stomach. Despite the early hour, the heat and humidity are already oppressive and Elizabet discreetly wipes sweat from her brow.

She can’t hate the heat the way she normally does, this morning. In fact, she’s quite pleased for it. The crew were already hard at work, led by Captain Vasco, who has taken it upon himself to make modifications to the ship’s rigging. It’s interesting enough work to watch to begin with, but watching the handsome captain move with all of the grace and dexterity of a dancer up in the air is really quite something.

The view only improves when the captain pauses, pulls off his shirt and throws it down onto the deck. It appears Elizabet now has the answer to the question plaguing her all week: his tattoos do, in fact, go beyond his face. It’s impossible to get a good view of them from the deck, but she can make out swirls and waves over his torso, upper back and arms, and a sizeable patch of skin left uninked over his heart.

“Bless this heat,” Elizabet thinks to herself. She imagines running her fingers and tongue over the swirling lines of his torso, the muscles in his abdomen twitching at her touch. The heat rises in her skin and her cheeks flush at the thought.

Her fantasies are interrupted by Kurt who pokes her shoulder.

“Green Blood, are you there?”

Elizabet snaps her head and looks at Kurt, who has a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for several minutes now. Your old Master of Arms can’t compete with the handsome captain dancing on the ropes, can he?”

Elizabet’s cheeks only grow warmer. “I wasn’t... I mean... The work is just interesting is all.”

“And what you mean by that is that you are enjoying the view.”

Kurt says this loud enough that several of the Nauts nearby turn to look at them. One of them snickers. Elizabet considers jumping overboard.

“If you’re so sweet on the captain, you could try talking to him instead of just ogling him.”

Elizabet sighs. “He’s technically employed by my family. It would be terribly inappropriate and unprofessional.”

“There’s nothing wrong with talking, Green Blood. I didn’t tell you to fall into bed with him. But, it’s obvious you’re thinking about it, and it’s clear to everyone around us too.”

“People can tell I... think he’s handsome?”

“It’s bloody written on your face, Green Blood. We can see you mentally undressing him.”

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Elizabet moans, covering her face with her hands. It’s probably unbecoming of a Legate to curse in public but things are dire right now.

She can hear another Naut snickering discreetly as she walks by them.

“Face it, Green Blood, you have a type.” Kurt gently punches her in the shoulder as he gets up and walks away, leaving Elizabet to continue to ponder the idea of throwing herself overboard in embarrassment. Why is she so awkward when she fancies someone?

** 5 Years Earlier... **

A quiet knock on the door rouses Kurt from a light sleep. The sun’s rays shine through the lace curtains in his room. It’s early, but not obscenely so. Still, nobody usually bothers him this early. Grumbling, he throws on a shirt and opens the door. The young Lady De Sardet stands there, looking down at the ground and fidgeting with her fingers.

“Good morning, Green Blood. Are you that eager to begin your training today?”

Elizabet looks up at him. Her eyes are splotchy, as if she’d been crying recently. 

“I was wondering if you could... Take me to the Coin Tavern tonight? As my body guard, of course,” she adds quickly. She takes a deep breath before pressing on.

“I am planning to meet someone there later, and I know it can be rough and I’ve never been to a tavern before...And I’m 18 now and a woman and it’s about time I go.” She grows more confident as she runs through her clearly rehearsed spiel, but suspects it is put upon; she’s nervous and convincing herself this is a good idea.

“Who are you planning on meeting?”

“I... Don’t know yet. And someone else later on but I can’t tell you more than that.”

Kurt sighs. What the hell was she up to? Normally her cousin was the cause of his headaches, not her.

“You... Don’t know who you’re meeting?”

Lady De Sardet shakes her head. “A man. Hopefully a nice one. I was thinking I’d rent a room there and talk to some of the men in the tavern and...Find someone to lay with.”

Luckily Lady De Sardet does not look him in the eyes as he says this. Kurt feels the heat rising in his cheeks at the thought of his young charge finding a stranger for sex.

“Damnit Green Blood, have you ever lain with a man?” He asks, more forcefully than he meant to.

Elizabet shakes her head furiously.

“Then why are you doing this? Your first time should be...special,” Kurt says, more gently now.

A tear rolls down her cheek. “It has to be this way. Kurt, please,” she begs.

He doesn’t understand but she’s desperate and he doesn’t want her going to the Coin Tavern without anyone accompanying her.

“We will go after dinner, Green Blood,” he says, resigned.

Lady De Sardet jumps into his arms and hugs him hard. “I knew I could count on you,” She whispered.

And that was how he ended up sitting in the Coin Tavern nursing a pint as Lady De Sardet sips a glass of wine. She’s eyeing the men in the tavern.

“Do me a favour and don’t choose a Coin Guard, Green Blood.”

“All right? Why not?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Kurt grumbled.

She looked like she wanted to question him further but paused and shut her mouth before saying anything more.

There’s a small group of Nauts in the corner. Kurt can see her eyes light up when she notices them. Her eyes track a young blonde haired man as he walks up to the bar to order another pint. She smiles, and her cheeks are red. The boy walks with a bit of a swagger, but it’s a show. He’s about her age, maybe a year or two older, and looks almost as awkward as his charge is.

“You should go buy the lad’s drink,” he nudges her.

“Oh, right!” Elizabet checks for her coin purse before standing up and rushing over to the boy. He seems happy enough to talk to her, and, while Kurt can’t hear the conversation, he can tell Elizabet is trying to flirt. Apparently she isn’t entirely unsuccessful because she eventually takes his hand and brings him over.

“I hope I don’t have to talk to this boy before he shags her,” he thinks ruefully.

Elizabet is grinning from ear to ear. “Mateo and I are heading upstairs. Can you wait at the top of the stairs and make sure nobody hurts us?”

Who would want to hurt her? Or him? The boy - Mateo - looks entirely thrilled with his luck and is staring at her fondly. Nevertheless, he agrees and mills about awkwardly at the top of the stairs. He can’t hear anything, a small miracle.

Kurt just barely notices a well dressed older gentleman head up the stairs. Kurt has seen him at the palace before. He’s Lord Demers? Demarais? Without looking at Kurt the man heads straight towards the room Lady De Sardet and Mateo entered and opens the door.

Fuck. Kurt moves to grab his sword. The door was left unlocked. He hears both Lady De Sardet and the boy cry out.

“Filthy whore!” Kurt runs to the room to find Lady De Sardet, naked, her hair astray and her skin flushed and trying in vain to cover herself with the flimsy bed sheet.

The man pulls out a pistol, but before he can aim it, Kurt presses his sword against the man’s throat. “You best lower your weapon, turn around and leave, my Lord,” Kurt growls.

“I head here at my betrothed’s request to meet her and find her riding another man. I cannot abide such a humiliation, and I order you to lower your sword and let your better handle this matter, coin guard.”

Kurt presses his sword harder against the man’s throat. Droplets of blood well up on his neck. “Take it up with her mother; I will not tell you again.”

The man reluctantly returns his pistol to its holster and lifts his hands up in surrender. Kurt lowers his sword. Lady De Sardet is still covering herself with a sheet, but Mateo is frantically dressing. He flees past Kurt and the man.

“I’ll take it up with the whore’s uncle,” he storms out behind the boy.

Elizabet looks small and shamed and Kurt looks at the ground in an attempt to preserve her dignity.

“Can we go home now, Kurt?” she asks in a small voice.

“Of course. I will give you some privacy so you can dress.” Kurt walks out of the room and shuts the door. Elizabet emerges several minutes later, fully dressed, with her hair perfectly coiffed once more. 

They walk back to the palace in silence, which is only broken by Lady De Sardet’s occasional sniffles. Her eyes are fixed firmly on the ground. Kurt doesn’t know what to say. Matters of the heart are not what he is paid for and he is unsure how to bring her comfort. She had been foolish and careless, and put both her life and the life of the boy at risk. But she knows that, already. Lady De Sardet is rarely reckless, and thinks through (well, overthinks) every action she takes with the utmost care.

When they get to the palace, he walks her to her room. Lady De Sardet pauses at her door.

“Uncle arranged for Lord Demarais to marry me. He’s more than 30 years older than me and he’s cruel and I could never love him. I begged Uncle to go back on his word but he would not. Mother was unable to change his mind either. So he had to see me with another man. At least now I won’t get married...” She trails off softly.

Kurt still doesn’t know what to say. He stammers awkwardly, which seems to be the right thing to do because she smiles and kisses him on the cheek before heading into her room. 

***

Elizabet knows she hasn’t heard the last of this. Lord Demarais will speak to her uncle and even her mother won’t be able to protect her from his wrath. She spends the next few days in a daze, stomach clenched, waiting for the shoe to drop and her uncle to call her into his private sitting room.

While she waits for the inevitable confrontation with her uncle she visits the watchmaker and purchases a gold pocket watch and compass and quietly has them sent to the port. She hopes Mateo will recognize them as an unspoken apology, and a thank you for unknowingly saving her from a fate worse than anything else she can imagine.

It’s a week before the Prince calls for her. Elizabet is training with Kurt when the footman interrupts her with her uncle’s orders. She walks with the footman slowly, feeling as if she is walking towards her execution. Maybe she is. Her uncle’s tempers are notorious. And if she strikes back with her magic to defend herself, either he will kill her or the hangman will.

She opens the door to her uncle’s sitting room, dizzy and willing her heart to slow its punishing rhythm.

The sitting room is deceptively warm in appearance, with mahogany finishings, and bookcases stacked floor to ceiling with leather-bound and gold-gilded books. The numerous couches and chairs are all a deep red, plush and comfortable. Underneath her feet, the carpet is soft and intricately patterned.

It would be her favourite room in the palace if it weren’t the room where the Prince doled out his punishments. The family and the palace’s many staff gave the room a wide berth when the Prince was in there, knowing that an unlucky footman, butler, or Constantin would emerge bruised, bloodied and silenced.

Uncle has never beaten her before. He dotes on her, in fact, at least compared to the way he treats Constantin. She should count herself lucky, she supposes, because on several occasions when they were growing up, Constantin would emerge from the sitting room with a split lip, a black eye and a halting gait. But there’s a first time for everything and escaping an arranged marriage is just the thing to turn his wrath on her.

He screams at her and beats her and Elizabet refuses to give him the satisfaction of screaming or crying openly. Instead she tucks her head in her hands and lets the carpet underneath her absorb her tears. Blood from her split lip stains the carpet, hidden by the intricate weave of the pattern. Just another bit of blood to mar the carpet that has absorbed so much pain.

It ends as quickly as it starts. He points at the door and orders her to leave. She scrambles up and out the door. Kurt is outside. He looks concerned.

“Are you alright, Green Blood?” Elizabet nods, because she doesn’t trust her voice right now. Kurt looks unconvinced.

“Shall I take you to your mother?” Elizabet shakes her head. She can’t face her mother today. Mother isn’t like most Congregation parents. She’s open with her affection, frequently hugging or kissing Elizabet before she leaves a room. Elizabet dreads her fury when Mother sees her face; it won’t be levelled at her, but at her brother. How will the prince react when his sister screams and rages at him for battering her daughter?

In short, she’s worried for her mother. Tomorrow she will see her. Maybe if she can get to her room unseen, she can cover the worst of the bruising on her face with foundation and lipstick. It won’t fool her mother for long; Elizabet rarely wears makeup, but it will buy her time.

“I want to see Constantin,” she whispers. 

He brings her to Constantin’s room. Elizabet knocks on the door; their special knock, the one she used so he would know it was her and not his dreadful father or mother. Constantin’s voice rings out inviting her in, and the pit in her stomach lessens just a little bit and she smiles gratefully at Kurt before opening the door.

Constantin’s face falls as soon as he sees her. He leaps up and pulls her into his arms. A dam breaks and Elizabet sobs into his chest. He gently leads her to his bed and guides her to lay down. Elizabet holds Constantin’s hand with a vice-like grip.

She spends the night holding her beloved cousin, the man who may as well be her brother. They’ve only ever had each other, and she feels safe with him; the first time she’s felt this way since she learned of the arranged marriage a year before.

They don’t speak because words aren’t needed to express the pain and trauma Elizabet experienced. Constantin knows better than anyone. He’s gentle with her, not wanting to cause her further pain but Elizabet doesn’t want gentle. She clings to him fiercely and hides her head in his shoulder.

Her uncle never tried to force her into another arranged marriage.

Her mother’s sharp words with her brother when she saw her daughter’s face the next morning saw to that. Elizabet only heard bits and pieces of the confrontation, which occurred in the Prince’s sitting room, but he left the room looking chastened and shamed, bearing a suspiciously puffy cheek, which he covered quickly with his hand as he walked by. Constantin and Elizabet had hidden around the corner in a closet to witness this unfold. It had been Constantin’s idea; he wanted to see his father pulled down a peg or two and grinned from ear to ear for the duration. Elizabet was too worried about Mother to get much enjoyment out of it.

The entire thing was swept conveniently under the rug, ending days later when Mother told her gently that she may never marry now.

And that was perfectly fine with Elizabet. 

*** 

Vasco is doing his nightly rounds around the deck, double checking that everything is in order before turning in for the night. Most nights it is the work of solitude; the majority of his crew are below deck, gambling and drinking or finding a corner bunk for a discreet tumble. He doesn’t mind the quiet.

Tonight, it wasn’t quiet. He works to the sound of a song. At first, he cannot make out the lyrics; only enough to know it sounded sad. As he gets closer, he discovers who is behind the tune that is simultaneously bringing him joy and breaking his heart.

The Legate. She’s staring up at the night sky as she sings, completely oblivious to him. He stands nearby, listening to the final lines of the song. Her voice cracks as she finishes. Vasco finds himself thinking that her voice is as pretty as she is and then forcefully shoves away that line of thinking. She is a noble in his charge and completely off limits.

She turns and starts when she notices him. “I’m sorry if my singing was distracting. I can stop if you like.”

Vasco walks up to the railing and stands beside her, feeling the cool wood under his fingers and the salt spray of the ocean hit his face. It was a beautiful night.

“It didn’t bother me. Quite the opposite; it was beautiful to listen to.”

She smiles at him.

“I have not heard that song before. Is it a tavern tune popular in Séréne?”

“I’m afraid that song is far too sad to be sung in any tavern that wishes to make coin off its customers,” she laughs. “I wrote it myself.”

Vasco finds himself wanting to strangle whoever could make her write a song that sad.

“You have a gift.”

Her smile turns wistful. “You are very kind. Perhaps I will have occasion to write happier songs when we arrive in Tír Fradí.”

“I should hope so too.” He leaves it at that. This is the first time they’ve talked since departing, and he can’t imagine her wanting to share the circumstances that inspired the song she was singing.

They stand silently for several minutes. She looks back up at the sky. Vasco wonders if he’s overstayed his welcome before she speaks again.

“The stars are beautiful out here. I never saw them like this in Séréne.”

“Aye, they are. You’ll never see them as magnificent as you do when you are at sea.”

“How lovely for you to have a sky full of diamonds to enjoy so frequently. I wish I knew the constellations in the sky.”

As a Naut, Vasco knows all of the constellations, and how to navigate by them. The stars are just another map to him. Of course, he cannot reveal Naut secrets to her... But the names of constellations and showing her the North Star could not hurt, can it?

“Look up there,” he points up at the Big Dipper. “The bright one, near the set of stars in the shape of a ladle, do you see it?”

It takes her a moment but she finds it and nods.

“That is the North Star. Find it in the sky and you will always know which way North is. It may save your life one day.”

“How fascinating! Do you know much about the stars? Do they move in the sky at all? What are the names of the other stars? Can you show me the constellations?” She grips his arm as she speaks rapidly and excitedly, sounding quite unlike any noble he has ever spoken to. He chuckles.

“I know...some. I can teach you the names of the constellations if you wish.”

She breaks into a grin. Vasco realizes she’s still holding on to his arm. “Oh Captain, that would be extraordinary! Perhaps we could trade knowledge? I know a fair bit about alchemy and can show you how to brew a decent healing potion.” She lets go of his arm and starts to fidget a bit and chew on her bottom lip. Vasco has noticed her array of nervous tics. For a noble in a position such as hers, she seems far more anxious than he would have expected.

It may save your life one day,” she adds, somewhat hesitantly.

“I would be amenable to such an arrangement.”

“Can we begin tomorrow, Captain?” She asks, sounding far more hopeful than any noble has ever sounded at the prospect of his company.

He’d been told earlier in the day by one of his crew that she had been eyeing him, but he hadn’t believed it. Surely no noble of her station would be interested in him. It doesn’t matter anyway, she’s off limits, he reminds himself.

“Aye. I should head to bed; I’ve an early day tomorrow. Will you head to bed as well, your Excellency?”

“Elizabet.”

“Pardon?”

“My name. It’s Elizabet. Maybe, if it isn’t too uncomfortable, you could call me by my name when it’s just us? I’d like that. A lot. I mean, it would be nice,” She stammers.

“Of course. Elizabet.”

“Thank you Captain. I like hearing my actual name instead of all of the titles and honorifics.”

“Vasco. If I’m to call you by your name, I would ask you to do the same.”

“Right. Sorry. Vasco. I’m looking forward to tomorrow. Have a good night.” Elizabet stretches her hands out towards him. She’s looking for a... hug? Just as soon as her arms are extended, she pulls them back looking horror-stricken, instead taking his hand in hers. He shakes her hand and forces himself to maintain an aura of cool professionalism. 

As he leaves he can hear her tell herself how awkward she is. How he wishes she could understand just how endearing she was to him tonight.

Shit. He has it bad for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not attempt to write the song Elizabet sings but found inspiration in “Come on Out” by The Airborne Toxic Event.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet mourns her mother and gets drunk with Vasco.

The next few weeks pass in a flash. On quiet nights, when the sea was calm and the skies clear, she meets Vasco on the deck, and discusses the constellations or the best techniques for crafting healing potions. Vasco is an ideal student; he takes notes studiously, and has an affinity for mathematics that shocks Elizabet. Where Elizabet would have to pause and do equations on paper Vasco, almost impatiently, does them in his head and provides her with the answer. Eventually, she just asks him, instead of writing out formulas and slowing them down. When she inquires how a Naut becomes so good at mathematics, he looks taken aback, and mutters something about it being a hobby of his. The line of questioning seems to make him uncomfortable for some reason, so Elizabet drops the matter and enjoys the benefits of having someone uncommonly good at math around. 

Elizabet is an enthusiastic, if presumably very irritating student for Vasco. She wants to know everything; why the constellations were named as they were, who discovered them, and why he knows so much about the stars. Occasionally Vasco mutters that he does not know the answer to one of her questions, only to come back to it days later with an answer. Elizabet figures he must have some reference book or encyclopaedia squireled away somewhere. Why he doesn't bring it out when they meet baffles her, but there's a lot that baffles her about the handsome captain and she's learned not to ask about what he is unwilling to offer freely. 

Honestly, she's just happy looking up at the night sky in the company of the most interesting man she's ever known. As summer fades on the sea, the nights grow cooler and the sun sets earlier. Elizabet has several coats with her, but conveniently forgets one every evening. As the temperature falls, goosebumps dot her arms and she shivers, and Vasco inevitably offers her his coat. She can never properly muffle the sigh of pleasure she emits as she puts it on, inhaling the unique blend of sea salt, gunpowder, cinnamon and pine that is so uniquely him. He always watches her as she puts it on, with an expression on his face that she can never quite read. It's almost as if he's longing for something. But she can't figure out what he could be longing for. Vasco grows aware of the little game, eventually offering her his coat before her shivering becomes obvious, but never brings a second layer for her or tells her to go get her own damn coat. 

It's quite sweet, really. Elizabet never thought an act as simple as offering one's coat would be enough to bring about the familiar heat and ache within her that inevitably led to her slipping her hand past the waistband of her trousers in search  
of release most nights before bed. She hopes nobody can hear the moans she tries to muffle in her pillow, or worse, knows it's the captain that fuels her desire. 

Eventually she runs out of questions about the constellations and Vasco has mastered the theory behind basic potion making, and she despairs, worried that he would stop meeting with her. This realization happens to coincide with the morning that marks the halfway point in their journey, which Vasco announces to his crew. Elizabet is on deck with Constantin, nibbling on a slice of stale bread and jerky when she overhears it. She loses her appetite, and stares out at the sea, not really registering what she's looking at. Constantin notices. 

"Cousin? Is everything fine?" Constantin shakes her shoulder, breaking her out of her trance. Elizabet smiles at him. It's not just anxiety about Vasco that bothers her, but the ever-persistent sadness about her mother has moved from a dull ache to actual acute despair. The healers told her shortly before Elizabet left that her mother had no more than two months left. While there's no way to know for sure, and there won't be for months, she can't escape the fact that she is now an orphan. Her mother is dead. The more she repeats the words in her head, the worse it becomes and the more her anxiety builds. 

"Elizabet?" Constantin tries again. Tears well up in her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. She is a diplomat and it is unseemly to show one's true emotions in public. 

"I am well, Constantin." Her voice cracks as she says it, and not even she believes her lie. 

But Constantin understands her, better than she understands herself sometimes, and knows when she would prefer a lie to stand unchallenged. So she is grateful when he simply puts his arm around her and holds her close. 

They sit that way for awhile before Kurt finds them and insists on a training session at the bow of the ship. She cannot use her offensive magic on the ship for quite obvious reasons, so Kurt has decided that the voyage is the perfect time for her to improve her skill with a blade. Elizabet has never taken to a sword; preferring to use her magic from the moment it manifested. In fact, Kurt's insistence in outfitting her with a blade whenever she goes out is more a strategy of avoiding a conflict than a means to protect her, because she's never actually expected to wield a blade in a fight unless things have gone quite south for her. Frankly, a sword in her hand is more a threat to her than anyone else. 

She takes a wallopping, to the surprise of absolutely no one, but at least her head is clear for a time. Her muscles ache, and her bruises have bruises, but the threat of tears has dissipated. The only downside is she notices Vasco watching at one point. How embarrasing for him to see her get her arse kicked by both her Master of Arms and her cousin. At least he saw what she could do with her magic before they departed, so he must be aware that she can hold her own in a fight. Just not a fight requiring her to use a sharp stick. 

After Kurt ends their training she does a quick check of herself using the healing magic she's been practicing. Just to make sure she has no internal bleeding. She's fine, and she knew she was fine without checking, but the thought of someone in her position dying of internal bleeding from a spar with blunted blades fills her with the panic she is far too acquainted with. It would be just the sort of embarassment some bloody Thélème historian would jump on. "Foolish Congregation of Merchants magic user can't handle a fight with a children's sword."

At least it gives her an excuse to practice healing. She's never used it for more than nicks or bruises. She focuses her magic, sending waves of healing energy over the worst of her injuries. There's a slight improvement. Maybe now she won't  
look like a total mess if Vasco gets her clothes off. 

"Stop that." she tells herself. He's still off-limits, and there's no sense in tormenting herself hours before she has the privacy to deal with the matter alone in her quarters. 

Her anxiety remains steady, but unobtrusive until the sun sets. Elizabet takes her usual place at the railing towards the stern, away from prying eyes, but the pit in her stomach only grows. Those pesky tears well in her eyes once more and she pinches her hand in an attempt to stem them. 

Fuck. She should flee before someone sees her like this. 

She's so distracted that when she whips around to rush away she collides straight into the captain. He grabs her by the shoulders to steady her. 

"That eager to avoid my company tonight, Elizabet?" His tone is teasing. 

"I am so sorry, Captain. I -"

"Vasco."

"Sorry. Vasco. I had just been thinking and, well, a thought came to my mind and I realized I had to address it, and to address it, I couldn't be here. But it can wait. If you don't mind talking to me. Sorry."

"Is it a noble thing to apologize as much as you do?" 

Elizabet laughs. "No, quite the opposite. I'm rather bad at being a noble much of the time." 

Vasco nods, and then pauses before reaching into his coat pocket. He pulls out a flask and takes a swig. 

"I thought I should grab this before I give you my coat for the evening. Whiskey?" He offers it to her. She considers it for a moment. Generally she avoids drinking when she's feeling as sad and anxious as she is, because it makes her more prone to tears. But it will loosen her up and maybe she can learn more about him if they're not completely sober. She takes the flask, toasts him, and drinks. 

And then chokes, because it burns and lacks any discernable flavour aside from straight alcohol. Vasco winces. 

"And now it appears I am the one who should be apologizing. It's not good stuff, I know. Unfortunately the tavern was out of my preferred brand and I was forced to...compromise." 

Elizabet hands him the flash and he takes a sip, managing to hide his own expression of displeasure with more success than she did. 

"So does the preference for whiskey that isn't swill come with being a captain, then? Is good taste in liquor a pre-requisite for the position?" 

"Oh, absolutely," Vasco says dryly. "The only reason I became the youngest Naut captain in history is because I learned how to drink properly well before I was expected to." 

Elizabet giggles. Vasco hands her the flask and she takes a swig, swallowing it back quickly to minimize the time it spends on her tongue. 

"Actually, I tend to avoid the stereotypical Naut pastime of spending one's coin in a tavern on cheap liquor, gambling and...paid company. It's difficult to build the skills and reputation needed to be given a ship of your own if you're hungover or falling asleep at your post. So, naturally, when I do drink, I stick to something enjoyable." Vasco takes the flask from Elizabet and drinks. 

The alcohol has a warming effect on Elizabet (or maybe it's just the company...) and she finds her cheeks are flushed. She may not need his coat after all, and finds the thought more disappointing than she should. 

"I brought several bottles of whiskey with me; good stuff, too. I can supply the flask next time?" Elizabet offers. 

Vasco breaks into a grin. "My fair lady comes to my rescue with the offer of drink that won't guarantee an aching head and regret in the morning? I would be a fool to reject such an offer."

"We have ourselves a deal, then." 

"What does a noble's flask look like? Is it encrusted with diamonds? Gold plated?"

"You think too small, Vasco. My flask is a hollowed out diamond, obviously."

"Oh, of course. How stupid of me not to consider such a thing." 

They stand in silence for a bit, watching the stars and passing the flask between them. The alcohol hits her like a brick wall quite suddenly, and her thoughts sneak back to her mother. The mother that she left to die alone. She sighs a watery sigh. Vasco turns to look at her. 

"Would you like to talk about it?" He asks her softly. 

"No. I mean yes, but it's not something you need to be worrying about."

Vasco takes another swig. "Perhaps not, but have you considered that I can choose to take on your worries, should you want to trust me with them?" 

Elizabet accepts the offered flash and sips. "My mother is dead." Might as well say it how it is.

Vasco takes her hand. Elizabet's heart skips, and she squeezes his hand. "I am sorry. When did she pass?" 

"I don't know. The healers gave her no more than two months, and that prognosis was a week before we departed. It was the malichor."

Elizabet forces her voice to remain steady and flat, as if she were reading from a diplomatic trade agreement and not talking about losing the mother she loves so much. 

Vasco's hand remains in hers and he's looking her in the eye, and he looks so damned concerned and sympathetic, and it's just too much for her. The limited composure she has remaining falls away, and a pained sob escapes from her lips. She covers her face with the hand Vasco isn't holding and weeps. Vasco lets go of her hand. 

Strong arms envelop her, and she cries into the offered shoulder. At first, she assumes Vasco had gone to fetch Constantin, but as her sobs ease and the fog clears, she realizes that the person hugging her is not tall enough to be Constantin. Elizabet sniffles, and she can smell the sea, cinnamon, pine and just a hint of gunpowder. She squeezes him. He returns the gesture. 

"I asked Mother and Uncle to delay the voyage or put me on the next one so I could be there with her. Mother refused. She told me she didn't want me waiting around just to watch her die. So I said goodbye to her for the last time the morning we left, before walking to the port."

"Were you close to your mother?" 

"Very. It was always just the two of us; Father died when I was a baby. She was protective of me. And she hugged me, and told me she loved me every damn day. Even when I was being a little shit and she was cross with me, she'd always knock on my door before bed and tell me how special I am, and how happy she was to have me because she couldn't bear the thought of me going to sleep thinking she was still angry with me. Constantin was always hanging around with me and Mother too, and Mother made sure to spend time with him as well. His own parents couldn't be bothered to do so, but Mother always did.”

"You were lucky to have each other. I'll never know a mother's love, but your mother is the sort I wish I could have had."

"You don't remember your parents at all?" 

"No. I took my first steps on the deck of a ship. The Nauts are my family." 

"Do you...know anything about them? Do you want to?" 

"Only that they were likely from the Congregation. And yes. I would."

"Vasco, if there's anything I can do in my position to give you the information you're looking for...I would help you. You need only ask."

"I'll keep that in mind." 

With that, Vasco loosens his hold on Elizabet and they separate. Elizabet is quite tipsy and feeling increasingly foolish for crying in front of a man who was a stranger to her just two months previous. His eyes are still fixed on her, and she feels the intensity of his gaze. 

"I'm sorry for crying. It was quite improper of me. I appreciate your company."

Vasco snorted. "I had no idea it was inappropriate to have feelings." 

"I was taught not to show extreme displays of emotion in public. It could reveal a nation's position on a touchy topic, or affect how I'm perceived, which would in turn affect the Congregation's diplomatic efforts. If I must cry, or mourn; rage, or celebrate, it can only be in private."

"Private, like on the deck of a ship in the middle of the night, beside the Naut captain who has spent the last two months teaching you about the stars?" 

"It still put you in an awkward position,” she insists, feeling the familiar sense of dread build in the pit of her stomach. 

"Elizabet..." Vasco starts gently, "You did not. I asked you, didn't I? Every moment you caught my eye today, you looked as if you were seconds away from weeping or screaming, or panicking. Does it not feel better to have let it out?"

Elizabet does feel as though a weight has lifted off of her. "It does..."

Vasco nods in approval. "Good. Now that we're drunk, and we've talked about your feelings, do I have your permission to speak bluntly?" 

"I was under the impression you'd been doing so for weeks now. And you never needed my permission before." Elizabet thinks back to their first conversation where she had the audacity to call his beloved ship a boat. 

"Ah, but now I know you have a Master of Arms who might take offense to what I am about to say, and who has the strength and temper to toss me overboard should I step too far out of line. And I indeed intend to not only step, but jump right over the line." 

This gets Elizabet's attention; is he going to ask to spend the night with her? "Well, now I must know, if it will irritate Kurt!" 

Vasco scans the area around them to make sure nobody else is around before leaning over to whisper in her ear. "Elizabet, you are absolutely terrible with a sword." 

Elizabet snorts, and steels her face to hide her disappointment that apparently he does not share her feelings. "Everyone with eyes can see that, especially Kurt!"

"Yet, he's still putting you through the paces? How many years has it been?" 

"Thirteen..."

"What I mean to say is, why is he not working with your strengths? You are brilliant with your magic, based on what I saw at the pier. It would be a grave tactical error for you to get close enough to an enemy to use a blade. You had a pistol when you fought that beast but only used it to finish it off. Why?"

Elizabet hadn't realized Vasco had paid enough attention to that fight or her training on the ship to have opinions on her form beyond 'she is shit with a sword'. 

"Kurt always focused on my magic. He said I can use it at range, and if an enemy gets too close, to 'poke it with the sharp end of the sword'."

"Yet when you fought that beast, you quickly grew tired and had to focus on dodging before casting another spell. Or you paused, opening yourself up to an attack in order to take a potion so you could cast. Would it not make sense to alternate between your magic and a pistol to avoid wearing yourself out too quickly?" Vasco argues. 

It makes sense to Elizabet. She nods dumbly. 

"So...why didn't you? Haven't you had advanced training in all sorts of weaponry?" 

Vasco's digging for something, but she doesn't quite know what yet. 

"I know how to load and shoot a gun, yes." 

"At point blank range. Step back, fire at a distance and could you have made that shot?"

And there it is. He didn't want to openly accuse Kurt of failing to prepare her properly for combat, so he danced around it.

"No, I couldn't, is that what you were looking to hear?" she snaps. 

Vasco grins, undeterred by the heat in her voice. "Learn to shoot properly and you will be unstoppable, my dear."

Elizabet takes a deep breath, not wanting the irritation and embarrassment she feels to come through any more than it already has over the last few minutes of their conversation. 

“I can ask Kurt to begin training me in the use of pistols in the morning."

Vasco takes one last draw from his flask before returning the empty container to his coat pocket. With all of the hugging, he never actually gave her his coat this evening, but she is still flushed from the whiskey and the heat of his body against hers. 

“I do not know Kurt well, but from what I've seen, his focus is on the use of a blade, correct?" 

"Yes..."

"You should learn from someone who favours pistols, not someone who keeps one on their person when they can't sneak their sword past the prince's bodyguards."

Elizabet doesn't tell Vasco that Kurt always carried a sword around the prince because it seems overly pedantic, and his point still stands. 

"Well then, who would you recommend?" 

Vasco looks smug, leans into her, and whispers in her ear, "I will teach you how to shoot," he purrs.

It goes straight to her core. How does he do that? She can only nod weakly. 

Vasco claps his hands. "Excellent! We'll start tomorrow; assuming the good weather I am expecting holds. I will track you down when I am able to spare an hour."

"Thank you, Vasco."

"I only ask one thing...Keep Kurt from throwing me overboard? I would prefer not to take a swim tomorrow." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kurt or Constantin really need to tell Vasco that Elizabet doesn’t pick up on subtlety when it comes to romance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet chats with Kurt before attending her first shooting lesson with Vasco, where there is absolutely no sexual tension at all.

It's never a good thing when Elizabet knocks on his door bright and early in the morning. For one, he knows she's traditionally a night owl, and is quite grumpy if forced out of bed before the crack of noon. He can't count the number of times he wandered down to the palace kitchens for an early dawn breakfast to find her reading about magic or healing by candlelight and snacking on a bowl of fruit. So he'd shoo her off to bed, and expect her usual good cheer to be absent during training later in the day. 

Of course, the last time she'd knocked on his door early in the morning he found himself protecting her after her betrothed found her with a Naut cock inside of her. That was a great evening. 

So when she knocks on his door this morning with the sun still low in the sky, he hopes quite dearly that her reason for calling on him has nothing to do with the Naut cock she's been chasing. If the captain gives him a reason, he thinks he should be able to figure out how to work the rigging to strangle him on his own boat. And he'll call it a boat too, just because it annoys him. 

Elizabet knocks again and calls his name. He should probably answer the door and find out what she wants before he plots the murder of the man in charge of getting them to New Sérène. 

"Just give me a minute, Green Blood!" Kurt chases down his breeches and shirt, and opens the door to find Elizabet standing there, looking nervous, with a plate of dried fruit, which she immediately offers to him. 

So this is to be a peace offering then. He accepts it, obviously, because her private stash of preserved fruit is far better than the Naut breakfast of 'lumpy grey gruel of questionable origins' he's come to expect at this stage of their voyage. 

"Would you care to join me on deck?" Kurt nods. 

As they reach the deck he notices she winces as her eyes are exposed to the sun. She's also wearing her hat suspiciously low over her eyes. Evidentially she’s hungover. 

They sit on deck and Elizabet fidgets with her fingers. He sighs and waits for her to drum up the courage to tell him about whatever mistake she inevitably made last night while drunk involving the Naut's cock. 

Because it has to involve his cock. How Kurt became designated as the person Elizabet chose to tell about her sexual experiences, he has no idea. And he wishes she would find someone else, to be honest with you. Like Constantin. Or that  
pleasant Naut woman with the shaved head.

"Vasco has offered to teach me how to shoot," Elizabet blurts out. 

Kurt stares at her blankly. Why couldn't it have involved the Naut's cock instead? 

"Are you...dissatisfied with the training I have provided you?"

"No, of course not!" Elizabet says quickly. "It's just...Vasco thinks learning to shoot from range will help prevent me from tiring myself out too quickly in a fight, and recommends I learn from someone who specializes with pistols," she pauses. "Not that I think you're a bad shot, of course!" she adds. 

"And when his lessons and strategies conflict with mine, who will you be deferring to? The man who has trained you since you were ten, or the Naut with the pretty cock?"

Elizabet looks confused. "When did you see his cock?" 

Kurt growls in frustration. Of course, that is what she would get from that question. And it's his own damned fault now if she tells him far more than he wants to hear.

“Obviously I haven't, and that was not the point I was trying to make, and you know it." 

Elizabet looks down at the deck. "I just...thought a different perspective might be valuable. And that maybe I can find the combat strategies that work best for me from both your training and his. I'm not trying to offend you or tell you I don't value the lessons you have given me. Quite the opposite, in fact." 

She's damned good at buttering someone up, he'll give her that. Bloody diplomat training.

"I suppose it gives you another excuse to spend time with him. With clothes on, even." 

Elizabet laughs. "I haven't slept with him. I told you it would not be proper." She pauses, looking thoughtful. 

"Hey, Kurt...How did you teach me magic? I asked you so many times growing up, and you always gave me a different answer. One time, you said you were actually a magic user and 'just weren't allowed to demonstrate' for me. Another time you told me you were secretly from Thélème and trained in the theory of magic. Oh, and then you tried to convince me you had been casting the whole time, but that it was just invisible. You always made sure I had plenty of books to consult, but I just can't figure out how you taught me the practical stuff."

He'd never actually wanted to tell her the truth. But she's grown, and holds his contract now, instead of her uncle. May as well give her the truth before she forces the issue.

"There was a weapon merchant from Thélème I worked with from time-to-time. He was gifted with magic, and when you came into your magic and needed a teacher, I asked your uncle if he would consider hiring my contact to teach you. Your uncle refused. Told me to 'figure it out myself'. So I had my contact teach me instead, and tell me how to instruct you. I stayed two lessons ahead of you, and luckily you were a diligent student who read everything I brought you so it didn’t all go to shit and your uncle didn’t have to sack me."

Kurt looks over at Elizabet, who looks shocked and on the verge of tears. She’s been teary a lot lately. He makes a note to remind Constantin to check up on her. 

"Oh, Kurt...I had no idea. Your contact couldn't have done all of that instructing for free, could he?"

"Of course not. He charged for his time,” he says flippantly.

"Did my uncle cover the expenses you incurred?"

Kurt laughs suddenly, making Elizabet jump. "When has your uncle ever paid for something he didn't have to? He guards his coin tighter than anyone I've met."

"How much did you pay over the years? At least allow me to re-pay the cost of my training."

Kurt shakes his head. "It doesn't matter, Green Blood. Just use it to watch my back and we're square. And keep practicing that healing thing you've been working on."

"Thank you. Your kindness and loyalty are much appreciated.” Elizabet pulls Kurt into a hug, just as the captain approaches them. 

"Good morning, your Excellency, Captain." He nods at both of them before turning to Elizabet. "Are you ready to begin?" 

She lights up, and Kurt is half-convinced she could float on air. He's never actually seen her look at anyone the way she's looking at the captain. This could be serious. 

"Lead the way, Captain." 

Kurt waves at Elizabet, and watches her walk away with the captain, who hands her something small, which she then puts in her mouth. Baffling, but very much not his business. 

The man knows his stuff, he will grudgingly admit to himself. But when Constantin makes it up on deck and sees what is going on, Kurt adopts the dour expression expected of him and complains  
about the captain's methods. Which mostly include standing behind her with his arm around her waist, checking how she's lined up her shot and whispering in her ear. It works; she's successfully hitting the bottles he set up from a distance,  
and her form is better than it's ever been. 

But the captain could not be more obvious with his affections. 

"She thinks he doesn't share her feelings," Constantin says to him suddenly, breaking the silence. 

Then again, Elizabet has always been a bit oblivious to other's affections. 

"Not that she would ever listen to my advice, but I think she would be better off just inviting him to her quarters and having her way with him." Constantin says this loudly, and several of the crew turn to look at them. 

This is why Elizabet talks to him and not Constantin about sex. He has no discretion. 

One of the crew members - Lauro, Kurt thinks, approaches them. He speaks quietly. 

"Some of us have a bet going on whether Cap and the Legate end up bedding each other during the voyage. Buy-in is ten gold pieces, if you're interested." Lauro grins.

Constantin pulls out his coin purse and fishes out ten gold pieces. "Put me down for the bedding," he says loudly. Lauro shushes him and looks around in a panic. 

"Hush, your Excellency; Cap doesn't know about this and would not approve of us wagering on his sex life." He turns to Kurt. "Are you interested, sir?" 

Kurt shakes his head. He'll bet on a lot of things; the time spent watching men slaughter each other at the Coin Arena speaks to that, but betting on the state of his charge's sex life goes entirely too far for him. Lauro walks away. 

"That was a fool's bet. Nothing will happen between them, and I will get to listen to Green Blood spend the next year on the island pining over the fool." 

Constantin looks over to Elizabet and the captain thoughtfully. 

***

Elizabet is only slightly taken aback this morning when Vasco uses her title. She reminds herself that they are in public, and that there are appearances to keep. As they walk away, he hands her a piece of bark and tells her to chew on it. She looks at him, confused. 

"Willow bark. For your headache. It's a remedy one of the islanders taught me last time I was on shore leave."

"And how do you know I have a headache, dear captain?"

"Because I do. And you drank just as much as I did, and while I may not be built like your Master of Arms, or near as tall as your cousin, I still outweigh you."

Elizabet concedes that point. She puts the bark in her mouth and chews on it, finding that it's actually not that unpleasant. Her headache begins to dissipate as Vasco runs through how she should be aiming and how to account for things like the wind or rain.

Vasco sets up a series of bottles on the railing of the ship, and guides her a good distance away from them. This area of the deck has been cleared of crew and is far away from ropes or anything else that could be damaged by a wayward shot. He  
stands behind her and wraps his arm around her waist, placing his hand on her belly and her cheeks flush and the ever-present ache in her core intensifies. 

He whispers in her ear. "Now, I am here to make sure you don't blow holes in my ship. Draw your pistol, and line up your shot, but do not fire just yet."

Elizabet unholsters her pistol, and raises it, trying desperately to steady her shaking hand. Vasco notices. 

"Am I making you nervous, Elizabet?" he croons, slowly lowering his hand so it rests just below her navel.

She moans softly. Vasco chuckles. "Allow me to assist." He places his other hand over hers, and examines the shot she's lined up. She can feel his nod of approval next to her head. 

"Fire," he whispers. 

Elizabet pulls the trigger. The bottle shatters, sending shards of glass flying into the sea and onto the edge of the deck. 

"I must be a good teacher."

"Or I'm just a good student," she retorts. 

"The very best I've ever had." Elizabet swears she feels his lips brush her ear as he speaks. 

Elizabet sneaks a look at his hand resting over hers on the gun. He has short, straight lines tattooed on most of the fingers of his right hand just below the knuckle. Some of the lines are more faded than others, meaning he must have received them at different times. With only the stars or dim lantern light illuminating all of their previous meetings, she's never noticed them before. They're quite unlike any other Naut tattoos she's seen on the crew. 

He seems to notice her looking at his hand and removes it from her pistol.

"Now, line up the next shot for me."

Elizabet holds her breath, steadying her hand and aiming for the second bottle. Once again he looks at the shot. Her lungs are aching for air. 

"Fire." She does. This time she clips the bottle, shattering half of it, before it tips over into the ocean. 

"Well done. Now breathe." She inhales, and as she does so, he pulls her tighter against him and she feels his hardness against her rear. Her breath catches and she gasps quietly. She grinds back on him and he groans against her ear. 

Elizabet is terribly disappointed when he releases her and steps back. She gives him a look and he motions towards the third bottle. 

"Take this one on your own."

She's torn between making the shot and pleasing him, and missing in hopes that he would touch her like that again. But she's Elizabet De Sardet and her pride will not allow her to throw a shot on purpose. 

Her aim is good and the bottle shatters. She turns back to look at Vasco, who nods approvingly. 

The rest of the lesson remains strictly professional, to her dismay, as Vasco watches her re-load, before offering tips to speed up the process in combat, and sets up a few more bottles for her to shoot. He knows what he's doing, without a doubt, but she's overwhelmed with need. After a few more bottles shatter into the ocean, he ends the lesson, and walks up behind her. She holsters her pistol and he curls his fingers over hers and squeezes as he wraps his other arm around her again. 

"You've a good eye, but you're slow to aim and easily distracted. We should work on that."

She chances a glance at his left hand, which is resting once again on her lower abdomen. The same lines appear just below the knuckle on all of his fingers, save his thumb. 

Elizabet feels Vasco turn his head back, and he immediately lets go of her, as if she had just burned him. She turns around to see a number of the crew watching the lesson, as well as Kurt and Constantin. Kurt looks irritated, while Constantin looks shockingly smug. 

"Don't you all have work to do?" Vasco barks at the crew, who immediately scramble and disperse. 

He looks at Elizabet. "Apologies, your Excellency. Shall we do this again; say, day after tomorrow, assuming the seas are calm?" 

Elizabet smiles. "I'd like that." Vasco nods, and turns to leave. Elizabet decides to take a chance. 

"Captain, may I ask you a personal question?" He looks at her.

"Aye." 

"What do the tattoos on your fingers mean? I've never seen anything like them on any of the other members of the crew."

Vasco looks down at his hands, and smiles sheepishly. "They give me character, do they not? Aren't I more alluring and mysterious because of them?" He winks at her before he walks away. 

Elizabet knows a deflection when she hears one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t recall there being any reference to who taught a mage De Sardet and it kind of baffled me. But I love the idea of Kurt learning the magical theory and using it to teach her, despite being a non-mage himself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet talks to Constantin about Vasco, a storm hits and Vasco discovers Elizabet possesses a surprising skill.

Her lessons with Vasco remain consistent over the next four weeks. He gives her instruction, and inevitably finds a way to sneak up behind her and pull her close. He never goes beyond inching his fingers ever closer to her cleft, but, infuriatingly, remaining over her clothes. She inevitably grinds into his erection, taking delight in the quiet sounds of pleasure she is able to elicit from him. 

It is all so very intense. And deeply unsatisfying. Elizabet thinks she's going to rub herself raw if this keeps up. But still, she refuses to ask him to bed. Were he to ask her, she would accept, but she will not abuse the implied power she has over him given his current employment situation. 

But he hasn't asked her to bed, and she doesn't know why. After their first lesson, she realized he was attracted to her in some way, and waited excitedly for him to knock on her door, but four weeks later and she is still waiting. 

It's beginning to affect her confidence to be honest. 

So she does what she's often done in these situations: tracks down Kurt. The sun is up, but it's far earlier than she would prefer to be up. But she had tossed and turned all night, and it was a waste of time to continue trying to sleep so here she is. Rather unusually, it is raining, and the wind is blowing harder than it has on any day previous. The ship is rocking, and she is careful to remain steady on her feet. 

She knocks on Kurt's door and calls his name. Kurt opens the door, takes one look at her and curses. 

"No. I know that look and this is about some sex thing, isn't it?" 

Elizabet nods. 

"I already know far more about your sexual misadventures than is needed in a lifetime, Green Blood; go talk to your cousin."

"But you know how indiscreet he is!" 

Kurt levels her with a look. "Then tell him to keep his fucking mouth shut under pain of death." Kurt raises his finger and retreats back into his quarters, where Elizabet hears the sound of retching. 

"Can I get you anything, Kurt?" Elizabet hollers.

Eventually the retching ceases and he responds with a pained, "Water. And a pistol to put myself out of my misery." 

Elizabet brings him a waterskin, and some candied ginger from her quarters, and places them on the stand beside his bed. He nods in gratitude before burying his head back in the bucket. 

Accepting that Vasco is likely to be too busy today to even stop for a quick chat, she leaves to find Constantin in his quarters. She knocks; their secret knock of course, and he invites her in. He's lying on his bed, and looks mildly green, but far better than Kurt had. 

"Good morning, Elizabet!" he says, far more brightly than anyone should sound this early in the morning. He pats on his bed, and Elizabet sits down at the end. 

"Morning Constantin. I was wondering if perhaps we can talk?"

"We can always talk, my dear cousin."

"Privately," she clarifies firmly. "As in, this doesn't leave this room." She does her best to mimic the expression she fondly calls Kurt's 'grumpy face', but probably fails because Constantin snorts. 

"This is serious! I'm really anxious and Kurt doesn't want to hear about it because it's a sex thing!"

Constantin raises his hands in surrender. "I swear, on my life, that this will not leave this room." 

She looks at Constantin, who actually looks concerned for once. "Why won't he sleep with me?" She asks softly. 

Constantin's face falls, and he takes her hand. "Have you asked him?" 

Elizabet shakes her head. 

Constantin laughs in relief. "Well, this is an easy one; you just need to ask him! After one of your lessons, turn around, wrap your leg around his waist, give him a kiss and tell him precisely what you'd like to do with him and I can guarantee he will carry you back to your quarters and do whatever you ask."

"I can't!" she says, sounding increasingly defeated. "It would be inappropriate. He's employed by our family."

"But you can grind against him as he teaches you how to shoot? Lessons which, I must add, no longer seem strictly necessary, as you've become shockingly good over the last month." 

Elizabet blushes. She'd hoped nobody had noticed their...flirting during lessons. "There's a line. I'm straddling it, but it is there." 

"Elizabet. Have you ever considered that perhaps he is straddling the same line?" 

Admittedly, she hadn't. But what if it was something else? 

"What if I'm not...attractive enough for him? What if my mark..." 

The mark on her face has defined her life more than anything else. More than her mother, her uncle, or her title. It's the first thing people see, and frequently the only thing they look at. Most assume she's afflicted with the malichor, and nothing she says can dissuade people from that notion. For as long as she remembers, there’s been a revolving door of doctors and healers around, examining her and confirming that she is healthy, but that they have no idea what the mark is. Growing up, her peers frequently avoided her, leaving her with Constantin, who was similarly excluded, but more because he was a bit of an arse as a child. 

She suspects her uncle had difficulty arranging for a suitable match for her because of it, which was why he had tried to marry her off to Lord Demarais, who was notoriously unpleasant, and who had yet to manage to find a wife, despite having been in his 50s at the time and obscenely wealthy.

Even after that whole mess, her luck with men and women failed to improve. She took the odd lover discreetly; a noble woman she'd met at court, the son of a low-ranking merchant in town, even a Bridge Alliance healer who had been passing through the city who had insisted on examining her mark thoroughly before getting into bed with her. They were all from different backgrounds, but had one thing in common: they were immensely unsatisfying lovers. In fact, the Naut, Mateo, had been the closest to satisfying she had ever had. She'd been close to release before Lord Demarais had barged in, at least. He was also the only one who hadn't stared at her mark instead of looking her in the eyes. 

It's kind of hard to climax when the person you're shagging thinks you're infected or some sort of medical puzzle to solve. 

So, she just assumes it's the mark when someone she fancies demurs when she suggests they take things somewhere more private. Actually, she just assumes that nobody has interest in her romantically. It's easier than getting her hopes up and getting hurt.

She must look pathetic, because Constantin gets off the bed and kneels in front of her, placing his hand on her knee. 

"It isn't. He looks at you, you know. When he thinks nobody is looking. At breakfast he'll gaze at you over the rim of his tea cup; when he's at the helm and we're on the deck his eyes will dart over to you. There are a million different moments I could describe to you, but I won't, because you need to talk to him." 

"But why should I bother when he's just going to sail away? In a month we'll land and I'll never see him again." Tears leak from her eyes and Constantin reaches over to grab a handkerchief for her. 

"This isn't a sex thing, Elizabet." 

"What do you mean? Of course it fucking is!" she snaps. 

"No, it's a love thing. You love him."

Elizabet starts to cry harder, and feels Constantin sit beside her and wrap his arm around her. 

"It's so...stupid...We're from different worlds and...I'd never ask him to abandon the sea, and I have my duties to think of...I can never have what I want."

"You could just leave with him," Constantin shrugs. 

"What? And abandon you just as you take up your new post? Abandon my quest to find a cure for the malichor? That's absurd."

"Sure. Commit yourself to the sea and him, and leave and be done with my father."

"It almost sounds as if you would do the same."

Constantin laughs. "I wish."

"I couldn't leave you to face the fall out from your father on your own."

"Oh, no, I would join you. I could become his lover too, and we'd be a big, happy, slightly incestuous family." 

"That is a uniquely horrible idea."

Constantin squeezes her hand. "To be serious again for a moment, tell him how you feel. Or don't. But know that he would take you to bed in a second if you asked him. He's a good one, Elizabet. And you deserve something good." 

Elizabet smiles and rests her head on Constantin's shoulder. "Thank you," she whispers. 

They sit together for awhile, as the panic loosens its hold on Elizabet and her heart slows and the tears dry. She finds herself feeling sleepy, so she dozes a bit, losing track of time as the morning slips away. 

She's rudely awakened when the ship shifts sharply and her and Constantin fall out of the bed. Constantin opens the porthole to find rain falling in sheets, and Elizabet can hear a symphony of wind blowing, waves crashing against the ship and thunder in the distance.

There's a knock on the door. Before Constantin can get up off the floor to answer, she hears Vasco shouting outside. 

"Your Excellency, do you know where your cousin is? She is not in her quarters." He sounds worried. 

"I'm in here, Vasco! Constantin and I had been chatting and I took a nap."

"Good.” Elizabet can hear the relief in his voice. Did he think something had happened to her? "The weather's turned, and the two of you will need to stay put until someone on the crew gives you the all clear. Someone'll be by shortly with some food and water. Will you need anything else?"

Elizabet looks at Constantin, who shakes his head. "No, we will be fine. Thank you. Please be careful out there." 

"I always am." She can hear him walking away from Constantin's door. 

Elizabet takes Constantin's hand, and supporting one another, they stand up and sit back down on the bed. Constantin is absolutely buzzing with excitement. 

"A storm, a real storm! I never thought we'd get to sail through one."

Of course Constantin would be excited. The more dangerous something is, the more thrilling he finds it. 

"I hope nobody gets hurt." Elizabet says softly. 

"I'm sure your handsome captain will see that everyone stays out of harm's way."

There's another knock at the door, and Elizabet opens it and accepts rations and two waterskins from the cabin boy, Jonas, thanking him and telling him to take care of himself. He nods and walks away. 

"It's nice to get some excitement before I'm stuck in a palace telling people what to do," Constantin says suddenly. 

"It's a prestigious position, Constantin, and living on the colony is sure to be exciting. How are you feeling about it all? We haven't talked about it much."

"He just wants me out of the way. I can't embarrass him on the island." Constantin doesn't have to specify who, exactly he's speaking about. 

"Think of it as a chance to gain experience. You're his heir, and this is good preparation."

It was the wrong thing to say. Constantin laughs bitterly. 

"I'll never be good enough for him. Fuck him. Fuck the whole lot of them on the continent." Elizabet squeezes his hand. 

"I'm here. I'll always be right by your side. Always."

A gust of wind blows through the drafty door, snuffing the candles Constantin had lit, leaving the two cousins in darkness. Over the howl of the wind, Elizabet hears Constantin whisper, "You're the only person who's ever loved me." She grasps in the dark for his shoulders and pulls him into a tight hug. 

“Mother loved you too,” she whispers back.

In the dark, Elizabet loses track of what time it could be. Her stomach, normally made of iron, churns, and she gropes in the darkness desperately for the bucket, and divests herself of the contents of her stomach. Constantin follows shortly  
afterwards. In retrospect, Elizabet wishes she'd told Vasco where she kept her candied ginger and asked him to bring it to her. 

At least she's not Kurt. The moment the waves are even slightly choppy, he's racing for the privy, a bucket, or, if he's truly desperate, the edge of the ship. He’s certainly miserable right now. 

The storm lasts through the day and into what Elizabet thinks is the night. Her and Constantin sleep when they can, because there isn't much else to do, and it's better than being awake and dry heaving into the bucket. Eventually they must fall  
asleep for good, because when she is woken by the sound of a knock, sunlight is streaming through the cracks in the door. 

"Morning," she calls out, her voice hoarse and her throat dry. 

"Morning," Flavia calls out. "The storm's blown off and it's safe to come on deck. Breakfast is being served, as well." 

"Thank you." Elizabet shakes Constantin awake and repeats what Flavia told her. He waves her off, turns over and resumes snoring.

Elizabet decides bathing and a change of clothes is needed before she is fit to be seen on deck, so she rushes to her quarters to clean herself up. At one point the braid she wears around her head had fallen loose down her back. Her hair is a thick mane of chestnut waves, and she wears it up to keep it out of the way, and for the sake of appearances. The nobility likes hair to be as out of the way as possible; the more intricate the hairstyle, the better. 

She emerges back on the deck looking and feeling slightly more human, and grabs a roll to nibble on and a cup of tea; unwilling to risk upsetting her stomach just yet. She eyes her surroundings, not seeing any sign of damage or things blown astray from the storm. Anything broken or out of place must have been repaired by the crew before she woke up. She's impressed; she knew Vasco ran a tight ship, but the efficiency is really quite remarkable. 

Elizabet doesn't expect to see Vasco on deck when she spots him near the bow, talking to some of his crew. She had expected he'd have gone to bed, because he's unlikely to have gotten any sleep the night before. He looks more haggard than she's ever seen him; he has heavy bags under his eyes, and she can see the shadow of day-old stubble on the bare skin between the lines of his tattoos. Standing against the railing, she looks out at the sea and waits for him to notice her. 

The awkward gait of boots against the deck alert her to his presence. Normally he's graceful, his steps fluid and near silent and it concerns her. She turns to look at him, and he smiles wearily. 

"I thought you'd be in bed right now."

"Too much to do. At this rate, I may as well stay up until tonight."

Elizabet snorts. "You'll fall asleep on your feet." 

Vasco holds up a waterskin he'd been keeping at his side and shakes it. "Not if I drink enough tea, I won't." He takes a sip. "Are you well, Elizabet?" 

She shrugs. "As well as can be. Constantin and I were sick throughout, but I seem to have recovered and he's still in bed sleeping it off. I'm more worried about you." She looks at him pointedly. 

"I'm fine." he says emphatically. He doesn't look her in the eyes when he says this. 

He's lying to her. Someone calls for him, and he nods to her, and turns to walk away. She watches him depart, walking slowly, with an arm braced around the front of his chest. 

Elizabet generally tries not to push. If someone wishes to keep something quiet, she usually respects that. But she's good at watching. So she returns to her quarters, grabs a book, and sits on the deck, as close to the helm as she can get without him noticing her eyeing him and pretends to read. Mostly, he remains at the helm, and she catches him wince occasionally. At one point, he walks over to help someone lift something, only for two other crew members to run over to relieve him. He walks away, looking irritated. 

"So the crew knows, and he cannot lift," she thinks.

She's so absorbed in thought; running various ailments and injuries through her mind that she doesn't notice when he walks over to her. 

"Good book?" Elizabet jumps. 

"Oh, yes. It's very...gripping."

"What's it about?" 

Shit. What is it she is supposed to be reading? 

Vasco smirks. "What is the title of the book?" 

She looks down at the book. "Defensive Magic and its Properties," she says weakly. 

Damn him for being so observant. 

"You're good at watching but terrible at hiding, Elizabet." He says, sounding deeply annoyed. 

Elizabet stands up, so she can face him, eye-to-eye, and adopts her best diplomatic tone.

"I can see you're in pain, and your crew knows you're unwell. You don't need to tell me what happened if you don't wish to, but at least tell me what's wrong because I may be able to help. I have a healing potion in my quarters; I can get it for you." 

"I'm not going to die."

"They're not only used when you're on death's door," She pauses and takes a deep breath. "Please." Her bottom lip trembles and her stomach is churning and she feels suspiciously like she is about to vomit again.

"I had the medic check me out. I've two cracked ribs, they're wrapped up and there's nothing to be done about it, and I didn't want to worry you. Now, if you'll excuse me..." He starts to walk away. 

"I have healing magic!" Elizabet says loudly. He turns around, and looks at her with an expression of awe on his face.

"You...can heal?" 

Elizabet nods, worrying at her bottom lip.

"Can you fix them, then? Right here?" He gestures down his chest. 

"It doesn't really work that way. For me anyway. Yet. I think if I were better I could heal someone anywhere, without touching them. But I'm slow and I need to touch the area I’m healing, and I've never fixed a broken bone before, but maybe I can make it hurt less or heal it just a little bit or..." she babbles. 

"Tonight," Vasco says quietly. "Would you come to my quarters tonight?" 

"Of course I would. I'll bring my supplies to your quarters after sundown?"

Vasco nods in agreement. "Thank you," he says quietly, before walking away. 

Elizabet spends the afternoon checking and double checking the various medical dictionaries and reference books she has in preparation. They're written from a scientific, and not magical perspective, but Elizabet has struggled to find any resources at all on the continent to assist her training in magical healing. So she's spent the last five years practicing on herself, Kurt and Constantin, reading every Bridge Alliance medical publication she can get her hands on, and practicing various surgical techniques on the corpses of livestock obtained from the kitchen staff. 

She hopes it's enough and that she doesn't make things worse for him. Rather timidly, she knocks on his door just after sundown, armed with her bag of supplies. He opens the door for her. She looks him over as he stands aside to let her in. 

"I thought you might be lying down."

"It was more comfortable to remain standing," He shifts his feet a little. "So...what will you need me to do?" 

Elizabet blushes a little. "I'll need a few minutes to get set up. And...um...you'll need to take off your shirt and lie down."

She sets her bag down, and opens it, pulling out the magic potions she will need to sustain herself, the healing potion she had offered him earlier, and a draught to relieve pain. Vasco looks on curiously, and peers inside her bag, where she keeps her surgical tools. He steps back rather quickly, and stares at her, looking horrified. 

"You're not going to need to gut me, are you?" 

Elizabet looks at him in confusion. 

"Your bag - with the scalpel, and other...instruments." 

Understanding dawns on her. "No. Goodness, no, I'm not nearly qualified to do that sort of thing." Vasco breathes a sigh of relief. "I'm self-trained, and I thought studying the science of medicine would assist my learning, hence..." She points at the bag. 

"Makes sense, I suppose," he says, carefully. 

"I've never taken a scalpel to a living creature. The cooks used to give me the carcasses of livestock they'd butchered to practice on. They thought I was quite mad, as you can imagine." 

"I might have thought the same had I not known what you were up to."

He's still dressed and standing. She motions for him to take his shirt off, which he attempts, but his injuries make lifting his arms above his shoulders difficult. Elizabet moves towards him and helps him, before gently guiding him into the bed. She looks around the room. He has a desk, with a small bookshelf on top of it, a room off to the side that is presumably the privy, and his bed is large enough to fit two people quite comfortably. It's dim; too dim for her to work comfortably. 

"Do you have a lantern?" 

"Under the bed."

She reaches under the bed to grab the lantern and lights it, hanging it on a hook over the bed. She brings his desk chair over and sits next to him. Gently, she undoes the bandages around his chest and sets them aside. The span of his chest is a mottled mix of purple, blue and red and she winces. 

"It hurts as bad as it looks, I assure you." 

"Done pretending to be a hero?" she smirks. 

"Aye. I should have known you would pester me until I fessed up. I lost my balance and when the ship rocked, I was sent flying into the railing. It was lucky I didn't tumble overboard. A stupid mistake."

"It happens. I need to check you over. Can I put my hands on you?" 

Vasco nods, and she places her hands on his chest, over his heart, casting to check his heart and lungs for any damage that might be easily missed by a physical exam. She finds two cracked ribs, as the medic had told him, and he flinches as she gently moves her hands over the bruising. Next she checks his abdomen, to be on the safe side; there's no bruising further down, but she wants to be thorough. He squirms as her hands run down the side of his abdominal muscles, and she withdraws her hands immediately. 

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" 

He looks at her and smiles. "No, but I'm ticklish, and your hands are cold."

"Oh, sorry..." She rubs her hands together to try to warm them, but he reaches out to grab her hands. 

"I like the way your hands feel, Elizabet." 

Elizabet is suddenly very grateful the lantern light is centred on Vasco and that he wouldn't be able to see how flushed she is right now. 

"Right. Well, I'm not seeing any other damage, aside from the bruising, some strained muscles and the two cracked ribs. Nothing's out of place, and none of your organs are punctured and you’re not bleeding internally, so I'm going to try to do what I can to fix you up. This will probably hurt...I mean it will hurt, but I'll do everything I can to minimize it -"

Vasco cuts her off. "You're doing well Elizabet; you do not need to worry about hurting me."

She places both her hands over the bruising and casts, focusing on knitting together the cracked ribs. There's more resistance than when she's healed previous injuries, but slowly she feels them begin to heal under her fingers. She occasionally turns to look at Vasco’s face to check up on him; he never makes a sound and his eyes are closed tightly, as if he is concentrating hard on something. 

When she feels her magic run dry, she pauses and reaches for a potion, and tips it back. Taking too many of them tends to leave her jittery and dizzy, but she will manage. 

The bones don't heal completely; eventually they stop responding to her magic, and she does not know how to push on without hurting him, so she focuses on the inflammation, clearing up the worst of the bruising. As she reaches for her fourth magic potion, Vasco’s eyes snap open and he reaches out and takes her hand. 

"You've taken too much; I can feel your hands shaking as you work."

"I'm just tired, Vasco," she argues.

"'In large amounts, borage causes dizziness, heart palpitations and shaking in the limbs.'" He raises his eyebrow at her.

"Are you...quoting one of my lessons?"

"That was the general idea." 

"I can do a little more. The bruising is still significant and your muscles are badly strained."

Vasco shakes his head. "I'll not have you put yourself at risk for me."

Elizabet uncorks the healing potion and hands it to him. "Then humour me and take this?" 

He tilts it back, drinks it and immediately gags, and coughs, wincing in pain. Elizabet reaches out for the other pillow on the bed and places it against his chest as he coughs. 

"You didn't tell me it would taste like piss," he rasps. 

"I thought you'd fight me on it more if you knew just how unpleasant they are." She hands him his waterskin and he takes a heavy draw from it. 

"Have you been taking any deep breaths?" 

He looks at her as if she has two heads. "My ribs are broken, so of course not." 

She places a hand on his back to sit him up and puts more pressure on the pillow against his chest. "You need to take a few deep breaths every hour and the pillow will help."

Elizabet guides him through a couple of breathing exercises before helping him lie back down, placing the pillow beside him.

"Your methods are different from what any medic before has recommended when I've cracked my ribs."

"A Bridge Alliance medical reference book suggested it. It should keep your lungs from filling with fluid,” she shrugs. “How many times have you cracked your ribs?"

"This is the third time. And I punctured my lung when I was 15. The ship medic was shocked I ended up surviving. It feels like you're drowning. I'd suggest avoiding it." 

Elizabet reaches over to touch the knot of scar tissue just off-centre in the middle of his torso. She'd noticed it while examining him but hadn't wanted to ask. 

"I'm glad you're still here," she whispers. 

"I'd have hated to miss the chance to get beat up and tended to by a woman as beautiful as you."

"Now you're just trying to flatter me."

"It's not flattery when it's true." She smiles and looks down at her lap.

Elizabet reaches for the final bottle on the table. "I brought something, to help you with the pain. But it'll likely make you sleep and you'll be out of your mind for quite some time. I'm told it's generally pleasant. So if your crew needs you at all tonight..."

"They'll be shit out of luck because I'll be of no use to anyone?"

"Precisely."

"I was told that I was not to leave my quarters until tomorrow evening at the earliest. They were extremely firm about it; bordering on insubordination. It’s possible they’ve barred us in from the outside,” He says fondly. 

"They care for you." 

"And I, them."

"There's another thing, if you take it, I mean," Elizabet worries at the hem of her blouse with one hand and speaks rapidly, tripping over her words. "I will need to stay with you tonight, to keep an eye on you. The alchemist I purchased this from before the voyage told me that it can slow one's breathing and given your current condition, and the fact that I don't know how your body will react, and -"

Vasco takes her hand. "I trust you to take care of me. Besides, didn’t I just tell you my crew may have barred us in together?” He winks at her. 

The words go straight to her core; a familiar ache, and a rush of arousal soaks her smalls.

Vasco takes the draught from her hand and uncorks it. "Here's to hoping it's better than the last one." He drinks it. 

"And the verdict?" 

"Much better. It was very sweet. Perhaps when you get to New Serene you can experiment with your health potions to see if you can alter the taste?" 

"I'll add that to my list of projects, just for you." 

Slowly, tentatively, she reaches out and gently runs her fingers over his shoulder and upper arm, tracing the paths of his tattoos before dipping down onto his chest, gently, to avoid aggravating his injuries. She pauses over his heart, resting her hand flat and feeling the steady drum of his heartbeat. He turns his head and smiles at her; a smile that she returns.

"You approve of the tattoos, then? Are the nipple piercings to your liking as well?" 

She hadn't expected them and when he took his shirt off earlier in the evening and she saw the silver rings in each of his nipples, her cunt twitched with need.

"They were a nice surprise." An understatement.

Elizabet and Vasco drift into a comfortable silence. She continues to run her fingers over him, hoping to ease him to sleep. For awhile, she thought it had worked, before he opens his eyes again and looks at her. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, but his expression is one of yearning. 

"Would you lie down next to me, Elizabet?" He asks softly.

Her breath catches, and she wants to, more than she's ever wanted to do anything, but she can't; not like this. Not when he's medicated and under the influence, and unable to properly consent. She squeezes his shoulder, and braces herself. 

"Get some sleep, love. Ask me again in the morning and I will, I promise." She leans over and kisses his forehead. 

"You are so lovely," he slurs sleepily. "Every night you are the last thing I think of before I go to sleep, and the first thing to come to mind when I wake up." He closes his eyes again, and drifts back to sleep. 

She watches him for awhile, to make sure he's well, which he is. He looks peaceful in sleep, not pained, and his breathing is deep and even. She reaches up to snuff the lantern before she blows out the candles still burning in the room, leaving them in pitch darkness.

The desk chair will not make for a comfortable night of rest but she makes the best of it, adjusting the chair and stretching her legs out, before leaning her head back and closing her eyes. In the dark, she feels around the bed until she finds one of his hands and drifts off holding it.

Unsurprisingly, her back aches when she wakes up the next morning. She finds Vasco sitting up in bed and watching her, his hand still resting in hers. 

"I was trying to decide whether to wake you or let you rest. That position looked uncomfortable."

She reaches behind her with her right arm to put pressure on the middle of her back to try to relieve the discomfort of her aching muscles. "It wasn't the best night of sleep I’ve ever had, but I am fine." She pauses for a moment, drawing up her courage. "What is the last thing you remember last night?" 

The question seems to catch Vasco off guard. "I'm...not sure. I don't remember much beyond taking the draught. You were tracing my tattoos and touching me and then I fell asleep. Should I be remembering something?" He asks, sounding confused. 

Elizabet forces herself to smile reassuringly at him. "No, I was just curious whether it brought on any hallucinations."

"Nothing so interesting as that, but from what I remember it felt nice." 

"How is your pain this morning?" 

"Manageable. Better because I have your company." He looks fondly at her. 

"Well, then, I guess I'd better stay here with you today. It would be a shame for you to get worse."

Vasco lifts her hand up to his mouth and kisses it. "I'd like that very much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we learn more about Elizabet’s history with romance and why she has some of her neurosis. She’s had a pretty tough time of it.
> 
> Regarding healing: I don’t recall there being a mention of healing magic being a thing in Thélème (I easily could have missed it), so I’ve always interpreted it as a gift only the Natives have, which is why Vasco is so surprised to hear she can heal (and why she can’t find any resources to teach herself on the continent). While I always assumed Vasco had likely figured out her origins pretty much immediately after meeting her, he wouldn’t have thought healing magic is something she could have picked up on her own. So, really, it’s quite impressive for her to develop the skills she has, as someone who is completely self-taught through trial and error in the art.
> 
> And, as is probably obvious, consent is a running theme. It’s something that’s very important to me, and I wanted to write a relationship where both characters take it very seriously and recognize where there are potentially power differentials that affect one’s ability to consent. What they don’t know is that they won’t be separating from one another once they land and there won’t be those obstacles in their way any longer! ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet and Vasco spend the day together.

"I can stand up on my own, Elizabet."

"I know that, Vasco. Just humour me, and stand up and walk around a bit, and then I'll leave and get us breakfast."

Gingerly, he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands up, holding on to the side table for support. He takes a few steps, looking at her all the while. 

"There. I haven't dropped dead, so please get us something to eat before lack of food actually takes me." She hears his stomach growl. 

"Can I wear your coat?" The mornings have been chilly now that autumn is in full swing, and she hadn't thought to bring her own coat with her last night. 

"You may. People will talk," he warns. 

"Right, and they weren't going to talk after I spent the whole night in your quarters tending to you. People have always talked about me, and I can't be bothered to care what they say.”

“You may be the most refreshing person I’ve ever met.” 

She throws on his jacket, and waves as she walks out the door.

Kurt and Constantin spy her immediately and rush over. Constantin looks pleased, whereas Kurt is far more dour. 

"Green Blood! We had no idea where you were last night."

Constantin breaks in. "Yes we did; Lauro told us the captain had taken ill and that Elizabet was tending to him."

"That she wasn't the one to tell us is the point I was trying to make," Kurt growls. 

Elizabet winces. "Sorry. I hadn't seen you and assumed you were still under the weather after the storm and Constantin was sleeping too, so I had spent my afternoon in my quarters studying before heading to take care of Vasco." 

"Please tell me 'taking care of' is not a euphemism for something. We talked about this the other day." 

"No, I was actually tending to his injuries, Kurt." Elizabet rolls her eyes, "And if you'll excuse me, I promised to get us breakfast. I'll be with him in his quarters for the day if you're looking for me." She gives them both a friendly punch on the shoulder before walking away. 

"Impale yourself on his cock, Cousin!" Constantin shouts after her. She turns around. 

"Say it a little louder, Constantin. I think there's one or two people on the other side of the ship that couldn't quite hear that!" 

Before making her way to the kitchen, she stops by her quarters to grab her flask. In the absense of anything stronger, decent whiskey should help matters, and it would be nice to drink with the captain again. She slips her flask into the coat  
pocket and walks towards the kitchen. On her way, she passes Lauro. 

"How is the Captain?"

"Doing better than yesterday. I'm bringing him breakfast and will tend to him today, as well." 

"You two have fun." 

Elizabet doesn't have to clarify precisely the sort of fun he is referring to. Evidently the ship's crew is well aware of the fondness they have for one another. 

When she arrives in the kitchen she grabs a tray, and covers it with salt pork and the porridge Kurt refers to as 'mystery gruel', and turns to grab a kettle to make tea for her and Vasco when a member of the crew speaks up. 

"It that for the Captain?" Elizabet nods. 

"He won't drink the tea made from the leaves we keep out. I'll make his tea for you." Before she can offer to help the woman takes the kettle and tea pot from her and rushes off. 

Apparently Vasco is picky about the tea he drinks. The woman returns and puts the tea pot on her tray. She inhales and the strong smell of cinnamon fills her nose. 

"It's from the Bridge Alliance," she explains. 

"That's why he smells like cinnamon..." Elizabet mutters to herself. 

The woman stares at her blankly. "I wouldn't know what he smells like, your Excellency." 

"Oh...his coat....smells like cinnamon..." She says lamely. 

Elizabet thanks her, grabs the tray and flees before she can say anything else that could lead to awkward questions. Balancing the tray on one hand, she fiddles with the door before Vasco opens it for her. She puts the tray down on the desk, grabs her breakfast and sits down in the chair by the bed.

"Your tea smells nice."

"I had wondered if Sofia would intervene and make sure you brought back the right tea." He pours two cups of tea and hands one to her, returning to stand by the desk and pick at his food. 

"I must admit that I hadn't expected a Naut captain to be a tea snob." She takes a sip of the tea.

"Every man has their secrets."

Elizabet blushes. "I realized when I smelled it that the tea explains why you smell like cinnamon. And I...may have said it out loud and Sofia...may have heard me." 

Vasco bursts out laughing, which turns into a coughing fit. Elizabet rushes to bring him a pillow, which she holds against his chest until the fit subsides. 

"Sorry..." 

"At least I can skip those bloody breathing exercises you are making me do for awhile," Vasco says, groaning. 

Elizabet places the pillow back on the bed and sits down. 

"Sofia is discreet; she won't say anything," he reassures her.

As they eat breakfast, her back protests being seated in the chair she had spent a whole night sleeping on. She feels a spasm in the middle of her back, and squirms to try to find a more comfortable position. 

"Take the bed."

"I'm not kicking you out of your own bed, Vasco, especially when you're in the condition you're in."

"I can stand for a bit."

Elizabet hesitates before sitting on the bed and leaning back against the headboard. She's certainly more comfortable, though she expects her back to be sore for several days. 

"Now I can say I got you into my bed," he jokes. 

"I don't think it counts if you're not in it at the same time.”

"Very true." He puts his plate down, drinks the last of his tea and walks toward the other side of the bed, looking at Elizabet with an intensity she has never seen in his eyes. 

"May I sit on the bed, Elizabet?" 

“What happened to ‘I can stand for a bit’?”

“I would much prefer to be close to you.”

She nods and taps the bed. He sits down and leans back on the headboard, and sighs in relief. 

"Comfortable?" 

"As comfortable as I can be at the moment." 

That reminds Elizabet that she's still wearing his coat, and that she has whiskey for him. She fishes her flask out of the pocket before removing his coat, placing it at the end of the bed. Elizabet hands him the flask, and he examines it. 

"Are we to drink the day away, then?" 

"Liquor is a pretty damned decent painkiller and I had promised you good whiskey awhile back." 

"I believe you had also promised a flask made of diamond."

"I must have left it on the continent. Sorry; you'll have to make do with something a little less elaborate. I know it'll be a challenge for a man who only drinks imported tea," Elizabet teases.

Vasco shakes his head, smiling. "You found out I enjoy two fine things in life, and now I'll never hear the end of it," He opens the flask and takes a sip, nodding in approval. "You have excellent taste. Thank you." He hands her the flask and she drinks before handing it back to him.

For awhile, they drink in a comfortable silence, passing the flask back and forth. The alcohol warms Elizabet, and she feels flushed but the dread that’s always in the back of her mind is slowly creeping forward. Vasco relaxes visibly; he's holding his upper body much less stiffly, and he looks to be more comfortable. It's bright enough in the room now that she can see the bruising on his chest clearly. Her work last night dealt with the worst of it, and it's no longer an angry purple, and she thinks some of the swelling has gone down, as well. 

"I should have tried to do more healing on you before we started drinking," she says regretfully. 

He rolls over, not without effort, and cups her cheek, gently running his thumb over her mark. She stiffens; a history of doctors prodding it and people reacting with fear when they see it has made her self-conscious when people touch it. He pauses, removing his hand and looks at her with questioning eyes. This is Vasco; he's unlike anyone she's ever met, and his touches are tender and loving; not clinical and cold. She nods, and his hand returns to her cheek. 

"You did so much for me last night and I would love nothing more than to just relax with you today. No magic, no work, just the two of us,” he murmurs. 

"I can do some more tomorrow..." She can't quite escape the swirling panic growing inside her and her head is swimming. He must realize this, because he shifts closer to her, and gently prompts her to lie down next to him. They're inches apart now, and she can feel his breath on her cheek as he exhales, and his hand moves to smooth a stray lock of hair that has fallen out of her braid. 

"Let us tackle that tomorrow, then. Be calm; you've already cut my recovery time in half, and I am grateful for that." 

She takes a deep breath in an effort to stem her anxiety and nods. 

"Tell me what you need."

Growing up, when Elizabet's anxiety was at its worst, her mother would cuddle with her and tell her a story. The combination of the warmth of her embrace and a story she could concentrate on was often enough to pull her out of her frequent anxiety attacks. But as she reached adulthood and was expected to have grown out of her anxiety and the childish habit of running to her mother for comfort, she just learned to deal with it herself, often by compartmentalizing things and handling them one-by-one, in an effort to avoid overwhelming herself. Her anxiety is a closely guarded secret, hidden completely from the vipers of the continent’s courts. Only those closest to her know that her stomach is frequently a tangled mess of knots and of the ever-present feeling of doom she fights that haunts every step she takes.

She misses her mother so much.

"When I was young, my mother used to cuddle with me and tell me a story to calm me down. You don't have to if you don't wish to; my aunt and uncle always told me it was a childish habit and that Mother was foolish to indulge me so..."

"Come here, Elizabet." She shuffles forward, closing the gap between them, and he gingerly wraps his arm around her waist, rubbing circles on her back in a soothing motion. With his other hand he cups her cheek once more and guides her head towards his, so her forehead is resting against his.

"I was promoted to captain a year ago; the youngest Naut captain in history, as you are aware. I've undertaken many difficult voyages over the years, but the most significant, and the one I believe led to the appointment, was the time I sailed through a hurricane as a mere sailor."

"The ship's captain had miscalulated and led us directly in its path. With no time to change course, he ordered the crew to prepare for rough waters."

"An understatement, I presume?"

"Yes. He was a bit of a reckless idiot, and had wanted to use the stronger winds at the edge of the storm to speed up the voyage. Thought he’d impress the admiral by docking early.”

"You can do that?" 

"It's dangerous, as you can imagine, but yes. The only cause I would ever have for taking the risk is if we'd run into calm waters that had kept us stalled for weeks. Sailing the edge of a hurricane might kill you, but starvation or dehydration will surely kill a man and eventually becomes the greater concern." 

"We'd been transporting a few healers and nobles from the Congregation on that voyage, and they had passed their initial medical exams prior to boarding, but had failed to disclose they had been exposed to the sweating sickness. Within a week, half the crew were delirious with fever, myself included. I pulled through, but several didn't, so we were running a skeleton crew as it was."

"Did any of your passengers die?" 

Vasco scoffs. "No, those idiots recovered just fine."

"So we make our preparations and sail into the hurricane. Most of us are below deck, riding it out, but the captain calls a meeting and tells us he needs volunteers to go above deck. I know I'm a damned good sailor and didn't feel like leaving my life in the hands of people less capable than I, so I volunteered. Normally, a senior officer, if not the captain themselves, remains on deck to give orders, monitor the situation, that sort of thing. But the Captain opened the hatch, effectively shoved us on-deck and closed it behind us." 

"So the man was a coward?"

"Aye. So I took charge. I had 23 years on me; several of the sailors were twice my age at least, but they all deferred to my orders, and we made it through. The worst of it lasted about 20 hours, and I was on deck for about 17 of them."

"That's amazing, Vasco."

"So we make it to port; New Serene on Tír Fradí, in fact, and the Captain is bragging to Admiral Cabral about how he 'sailed us safely through a hurricane'. Well, I was right pissed off, and I have a bit of a mouth as you are aware..."

"No, I hadn't noticed you're a smart ass," Elizabet says sarcastically.

"So I marched over and gave the admiral the true recollection of the events that occurred. The men on-deck with me backed me up, so the admiral thanked me, sent me on my way, and when I returned from shore leave three weeks later, I discovered she'd intended to make me captain and gave me his ship."

"So you sailed the Sea Horse through a hurricane?" 

"That I did. There are several members of my crew that had been with me on that voyage."

"You saved them," Elizabet whispers. 

"I did my job, that's all."

"You're brave, talented, and a damn good leader. I admire you, Vasco. So much."

At some point during his story, Vasco had moved his hand into her hair, and when she says this, he tightens his hold on it, pulling her hair ever so slightly."

"I admire you too."

Elizabet reaches between them and starts absentmindedly tracing the tattoos near his collarbone, leading up to the ones on his face.

"May I ask you a question?"

"You can ask me anything, Vasco."

"How does a noblewoman from the Congregation of Merchants develop an interest in the healing arts?"

"It's not really a common hobby for a palace girl, is it?"

"I'm no noble, but I had been under the impression that most of the high and mighty do not dissect the carcasses of livestock."

Elizabet laughs warmly.

"Five years ago Constantin cut me on the arm when we were sparring," She moves to roll up her sleeve to show him a silvery scar across the middle of her forearm, "And it was bleeding everywhere, so he ran to go find a cloth or bandages so we could put pressure on it." 

"I was wearing these leather shoes, and it sounds so silly, but I did not want to get blood on them, so I was terribly annoyed about it, so I was...willing the bleeding to stop, kind of like when I'm casting a spell in battle. And the bleeding stopped. At first Constantin and Kurt thought it was a coincidence, but I touched a bruise on Kurt's elbow and did the same thing and it faded."

"All the best hobbies come out of a desire to protect one's shoes."

Elizabet giggles, and pulls Vasco slightly tighter against her, careful not to hurt him. 

"I wanted to learn as much as I could, so I searched for books, but couldn't find anything. I even made inquiries by letter to contacts in Thélème, but there was just...nothing. So I did the next best thing. I purchased every book I could on medicine and alchemy from contacts in the Bridge Alliance, and devoted as much time as I could spare to teaching myself." 

"With your skills, you could help a lot of people." 

"Maybe eventually, but I still have a lot to learn," Elizabet sighs. "I had a good education, Vasco. I learned history, literature, mathematics, all of the skills I need to be an effective diplomat...But there's a big difference between helping people through diplomacy and actually getting my hands dirty and saving a life."

"Perhaps you will be able to find someone to train you on Tír Fradí?" 

"Maybe...It's an interesting hobby, though, isn't it? Every noblewoman at court can say they know how to dance, but I can almost guarantee I'm the only Congregation noblewoman who knows how to heal. I’ve never done it on a person, but in a pinch, I could stitch up a minor wound!” she says proudly.

Vasco breaks into a grin. "I've known you three months now and you've never told me you dance."

"I've learned several forms. Ballet, ballroom; all three types of course, and time in the tavern with Constantin has taught me the dances more frequently performed in such establishments."

"Might I request a demonstration sometime?"

"You may. I aim to please you," she looks seductively at him, "You'll find I'm extremely flexible," she whispers in his ear. A soft moan escapes his mouth and he presses his hips against hers, seeking friction. 

"Fuck, Elizabet..." he groans breathlessly against her ear. Elizabet feels him shift, seemingly to find a better angle, but in doing so, aggravates his injury, and his arms give way and he ends up on top of her.

"Fuck me," he moans, his head buried in the juncture of her shoulder and neck. She rubs his back soothingly. 

"I'm afraid I don't think you're up for anything of the sort today," she says sympathetically. 

He moves to try to get up off her but Elizabet stops him. 

"You're fine where you are; you don't have to rush to get up if you're sore."

Vasco adjusts himself slightly; ultimately ending with his head resting against her chest. She runs her fingers through his hair as he starts to drift to sleep. 

"We still have whiskey, don't we?" He says sleepily. 

"We do. Would you like me to grab the flask for you?" 

"Not now. Nap with me?"

"Of course, love." Elizabet shuts her eyes and eventually finds herself drifting to sleep holding the man she loves.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ship docks in Tìr Fradì.

The ship has to arrive eventually, but there could never be enough time together for Elizabet and Vasco. They stop leaning on the illusion of propriety, and she frequently spends evenings in his quarters with him, talking, and cuddling; usually falling asleep in his arms only to wake up and sneak back to her quarters just before the sun rises. Occasionally things get heated but they never let it progress to sex. 

It’s an undisclosed, mutual agreement between them that making love would make parting hurt even more than it already will. Without sex, they can lie to themselves and pretend they aren’t lovers and that they mean less to each other than they actually do. 

They’re both terrible liars.

That’s not to say there isn’t intimacy. Whatever it is that they have is painfully intimate. Elizabet learns that Vasco snores when he’s tired. Together they discover that they sleep most soundly when they’re holding one another. And in the evenings, aided by the light of the lantern hanging above the bed, she memorizes the lines and swirling patterns of the tattoos that cover much of his face, torso and back. 

Once, she asks him why the skin over his heart is uninked, as she runs her hand over his chest. He pauses and when he does speak, his response is measured and careful. 

“Because that story hasn’t found its end yet.”

Deep in the night, when the sky is darkest, as she lies awake listening to the steady beating of his heart, she wonders why the world would be so cruel to introduce her to her soulmate, only to take him away from her four months later. 

She refuses to cry. She won’t do it. The night before the ship is set to dock Vasco is downcast and she pulls him into his bed, wraps her arms around him and tries to put a lifetime of love into the hug she gives. Because, if they are to subside on memories for the rest of their days, she has to make it good. 

Vasco asks her to stay with him until he wakes up the next morning and she does. He dresses, and is about to walk out the door before he turns around and pulls her into a bruising, lingering hug. Tears fall onto her shoulder and when he finally lets go of her, his eyes are red and puffy. She squeezes his hand and he leaves. 

She won’t cry. 

Preparing to dock is a busy and complicated process so she doesn’t get a chance to see him until they’ve actually arrived in port. Most of the crew is unloading but he remains on the ship; a chance for a final goodbye. Constantin and Kurt are waiting for her before they disembark. 

She walks up to him and he smiles; his eyes wet with unshed tears. 

“Knowing you has been the joy of my life, Love,” she tells him. 

“Me too, Tempest.” 

He’s never called her that before. 

She hugs him. “Can I have a kiss goodbye?” 

He smashes his lips against hers, brushing his tongue over her lips, seeking entrance. She deepens the kiss and moans against him as he squeezes her rear and pulls her against him. Too soon for her liking, they separate. A single tear rolls down her cheek and he wipes it away with his thumb.

She cries.

Of course their first kiss would be their last.

There are matters at the port to deal with and she’s handed an absolutely foul drink by two masked healers as soon as she’s off the ship. She tries to deny them but they’re insistent. The drink wipes the subtle taste of cinnamon from her mouth, making her feel increasingly bitter. 

Constantin is escorted off to the palace, leaving her alone with Kurt, who keeps staring at her. 

“I’m not going to break, Kurt.” 

“I didn’t say you would,” he shoots back.

They’re walking towards the exit of the port when Vasco walks up to her. 

“I’ve been scullied.” 

His face is a mix of rage, anguish and confusion. 

“How so?”

“My admiral laid me off.”

“There must be some misunderstanding; we were very pleased with your services and I know Constantin would have told her so.” 

“There were none, I’m sure of it. She just ordered me to ‘give you any assistance you might need’.”

She touches his arm. “I’m so sorry.” 

He sighs. “Don’t take offence but it is not pleasant for a captain to abandon his ship.”

“Of course I understand.” 

“In any event, I’ll be at your disposal for awhile.”

She motions to Kurt, who wanders off and walks around the various buildings at the edge of the port.

“Do you have somewhere to stay, Vasco?”

He hesitates. “Normally I would stay in quarters here on the port but given the circumstances...”

“I’ve been given an apartment near the palace. I would be pleased to have you with me; there are plenty of bedrooms I’m told.”

“Thank you,” he says softly. “Will you lead the way?” 

She takes the hint, gathers Kurt and the three of them walk to her apartment. Vasco is about as Elizabet would expect, given what happened; he’s quiet and withdrawn, processing a monumental life change he did not want. He’s lost his purpose. 

Elizabet never wanted this for him. A shameful, hidden corner of her soul, deep down, is happy he is here with her, but mostly her heart is breaking for him. 

Around the corner from the palace is the apartment. “Green Blood, I’m heading to the barracks; shall I come ‘round in the morning?”

Apparently Kurt would rather not stay at the apartment. 

“That would be perfect, Kurt.” He waves and departs, leaving her alone with Vasco. 

She opens the door. The apartment is elegantly decorated and would be entirely too much for just one person. A member of the apartment staff - Judy, gives the two of them a tour while another woman, whose name she didn’t catch, insists on taking and laundering their clothes, and moving their respective belongings to their rooms. 

When they’re alone again, Vasco speaks. 

“This is too much, Elizabet; I’m not...I can’t...” 

She takes his hands.

“I don’t know how to behave in this world,” he settles on. 

“What do you need, Vasco?” 

“Time. Something to keep my mind off things. Answers. Perhaps the chance to do my own damned laundry.” 

“Well, laundry is easy. I’ll speak with Judy and ask them to leave you be. Tomorrow Kurt will be by and there is sure to be some sort of task to attend to. And if there’s any information I can get for you, all you need is to ask.” 

He nods and takes a deep breath. 

“Is there anything in particular you would like to do today? Perhaps a walk?” She asks gently. 

“A walk might be nice.”

They wander through the streets of New Sérène. The city is still very much under construction, but there’s hope in the air, and it feels far nicer than her hometown, which has been ravaged by the malichor over the last few years. They encounter a Native gentleman being harassed by a palace official. She walks over to introduce herself and offer assistance and discovers the man lacks the appropriate paperwork to conduct business in town. She waves the official away and promises to get him the proper paperwork, and he thanks her profusely before she departs. 

“That was kind of you.” 

Elizabet shrugs. “It’s my job and the least I could do. I want New Sérène to be welcoming to all peoples. As far as I’m concerned, we are guests on their island.” 

There was one thing about the interaction that unsettles her. He calls her _On ol Menawi_ with an odd reverence. She is deeply confused by it. 

Diplomacy is what Elizabet excels at. While the city is unfamiliar, the tasks are not and she feels more at home than she has in months. But Vasco is very much the opposite. When she looks at him, she sees a man who is lost; overwhelmed by the sounds, smells and sights of a city. His feet are occasionally unsteady; a mark of a man unused to walking on land. When she notices him sway, she takes his arm to steady him. 

She brings them back to the apartment when she senses he is getting too overwhelmed. Once inside, she leads him to the sitting room and helps him sit. He stares blankly at the wall. 

Elizabet sits beside him and places her hand on his knee, testing the waters. Vasco places his hand over hers. 

When he lets out a quiet sob she pulls him into her arms. He cries quietly and Elizabet strokes his hair and kisses his forehead. His whole body shakes.

“I don’t know what I am anymore.” 

“I know, Love. But what I do know is that you are Vasco. You are the smartest man I’ve ever met, refuse to put up with people’s bullshit; you’re a brilliant leader, and you have a kind heart. You love poetry, good whiskey and fancy tea. And I will be here at your side for as long as you will allow me to be. The rest, we’ll figure out.” 

Vasco pulls away from her. “Thank you,” he looks down at his lap, unable to meet her eyes. “I think I would like to head to bed, if you don’t mind.” 

“Would you like me to come with you?” 

He nods, so Elizabet follows him to his room and closes the door. She briefly considers suggesting they head to her room; the bed is much larger and there are private bathing facilities, but wonders if the opulence would make him too uncomfortable. Better to ease him into it. 

Elizabet strips down to her tunic and smalls, snuffs the candles and slides into the bed behind Vasco who is still shaking like a leaf. She throws an arm over him, pulls him close and kisses his shoulder. In an attempt to calm him, she sings a lullaby her mother used to sing to her when she was young that always brought comfort.

It is hours before the shaking stops and he drifts to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I think the Admiral always intended to send Vasco off with De Sardet, I imagine she was extra convinced she was making the right call when she spotted Vasco kissing her goodbye on the deck.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team spends their first few days in New Sérène.

He can't stop shaking. It's not just being laid off, or the doubt, or the loss of identity. It's the stillness. He's used to the rocking of a ship; having to make hundreds of tiny adjustments as he lies in bed. There's none of that on land. He can be still; he's slept on land during shore leave, of course, but the knowledge that he does not know when he will next be on a ship is eating at him. 

Elizabet is holding him and rubbing his back and shoulders. He's keeping her up. Her sleep shouldn't suffer because he cannot settle. 

"You should go and get some sleep. No need for us to both be up." Her hand pauses on his back. 

"Would you prefer to be alone, or are you just worried about keeping me awake?"

"There's no sense in both of us being tired tomorrow, is all." 

"I'll be fine. I'm right where I need to be now, and will not leave unless you wish me to."

He's not sure what he did to deserve this woman but he would do it again a million times over just to feel the warm press of her body against his.

"What do you hear right now, Vasco?" 

He doesn't understand. 

"A grounding exercise, for the anxiety. It might help. Describe what you're hearing."

"Our breathing, the sound of the sheets rustling as we move. There's noise outside; probably drunks staggering home or merchants up early to prepare their stalls."

"Good. What can you see?"

Vasco surveys the room. "Very little. It's near pitch black, but there's a full moon and a clear sky so the light of the moon is shining in through the slit where the curtains don't quite close properly."

"And what are you touching?" 

"You. You're wearing a cotton tunic to bed as you always do, but I can feel the warmth of your body beneath it. You're pressing against my back, and your hand is on my chest, and your legs are tangled with mine. Periodically you kiss my shoulder."

She kisses his shoulder. 

"Close your eyes and focus on what you hear and what you can feel."

The shaking stops and he falls asleep listening to the sound of Elizabet breathing behind him and her gentle touches.

He's alone when he wakes up. Opening the curtains, he sees the sun high in the sky. Likely close to noon, then. He throws a shirt on and steps out of the room, and hears Elizabet talking quietly to Kurt. 

"We already labelled the crates; why do we need to paint a stripe on them?"

"The men are near illiterate, Green Blood; they won't be able to read the label."

So they were able to smuggle whatever crates Kurt had wanted transported to the island aboard his ship after all. Four months ago he would have been furious; now he's impressed with her resourcefulness. 

"We'll just have to search all of the warehouses at the port.”

He interjects. "That won't be necessary. All of the cargo from my ship is in the same warehouse; I can get you in without being seen. Call it a bit of revenge for laying me off."

"Thank you, Vasco. And...sorry about the smuggling. And for dragging you into this."

"I can admire your resourcefulness, Elizabet."

She takes his hand and walks with him into the kitchen where she puts the kettle on the stove, and pulls a plate out of the oven and brings it over to the small table in the kitchen. He sits. 

"I made you a plate this morning and put it in the oven so it wouldn't get cold." When the kettle whistles she prepares his tea, and brings the tea pot and a cup over to him. He nods in gratitude. 

"I thought you might be more comfortable eating in the kitchen this morning instead of the dining room.” 

During the tour yesterday Judy brought them into the dining room, which featured a table far larger than any he had ever seen. How would people speak properly if they’re sitting on opposite ends? 

I imagine I'll get used to..." he gestures around, "all of this in time."

It is all a little novel he admits; experiencing how Elizabet has lived her entire life. And how he may have been able to live, had circumstances been different. 

"You will. I was talking to Judy this morning, by the way. She is very friendly. Hopefully she enjoys working here with us."

Elizabet looks so nervous and hopeful as she speaks. When he first met her, he would have assumed that was an act she puts on; part of being a diplomat. But now he understands she is genuine in her words and actions, and cares deeply for the people around her, regardless of their station. It’s a rare trait.

"You are a good woman, Elizabet; I have no doubt she will."

Vasco can hear impatient tapping in the sitting room. Elizabet winces. 

"Kurt is in a bit of a mood today."

She doesn't rush him, but preferring not to force Elizabet to endure Kurt's annoyed tapping any longer than necessary, he shovels the rest of his breakfast down (fresh eggs; when had he last had those?), and washes it down with his tea, burning his tongue.

"Shall we?"

It is easy enough to sneak into the warehouse. He knows the guard rotation, and times it so the three of them get in unnoticed. Kurt marks the crates. One of them is ajar, revealing it is full of rifles.

"What does the Coin Guard need these for? Don't your employers normally provide your weapons?" 

Vasco's stomach drops. He eyes Kurt suspiciously. 

"I don't know. I'll ask around." 

Kurt's refusal to look Elizabet in the eye, and the slight palor his skin takes tells Vasco that he is lying. 

They leave without incident. Occasionally Kurt shoots a glare his way, and he makes sure to look him straight in the eye when he does. He's not about to be intimidated by Elizabet's bodyguard. They head to the marketplace. Apparently there are reports of merchants being extorted and Elizabet wants to speak to people in the market. Him and Kurt stand back and let her do the talking.

"You need to back off, boy.”

Vasco snorts dismissively. “And why would that be?"

"You two had your fun on the ship, and I don't know what you're playing at with her, but she'll only grow more attached and when you inevitably abandon her to sail away it will be my mess to clean up."

"We can both respect Elizabet enough to allow her to make her own decisions," considering his next words carefully, he continues, “What are your people using the guns for, Kurt and why don't you want her to know?"

It works. Kurt stiffens, and sputters, effectively revealing his hand without saying a word in response. 

"Are we all good here?" Elizabet asks loudly as she walks up to them. 

"Yes," Kurt and Vasco respond in unison. 

There’s no question she overheard at least some of that exchange.

Kurt returns to the barracks and Vasco and Elizabet head home to the apartment. They wash up before retiring to the sitting room. Vasco wraps his arm around Elizabet and sips the glass of red wine she had poured for him. 

The wine is excellent, and the sitting room, which he initially found to be extravagant and uninviting, is actually cozy and warm. Perhaps he could get used to this after all. 

But he can’t get what they found out of his mind. Elizabet has not said another word about it to either him or Kurt. It’s just the two of them tonight so he decides to broach the topic.

"Those guns concern me." 

She sighs. "Me too. I can't quite figure it out." 

"I’ve a few thoughts.”

“What are you thinking?”

"They were rifles. Powerful ones. Far more weapon than any standard guardsman would need. They were requisitioned by the Coin Guard personally, implying they want it kept secret. That fact bodes poorly for their employers."

"Are you thinking they're taking on tasks outside the duties they were hired for?"

"More that they could be planning to turn those guns on the people that hold their contracts," Elizabet looks doubtful. "But, perhaps they've all just developed a fondness for hunting," he adds sarcastically. 

"The Congregation, Bridge Alliance and Thélème have all hired the Coin Guard, and had them in their employ for years now... They’re an honourable group.”

He puts his hands on her upper arms and looks her in the eye, speaking firmly. "They're sellswords, Elizabet. Their loyalty is to the highest bidder and if it makes sense to them to do so, they will turn on you."

She nods weakly.

"I'm not saying they're planning to betray you for certain, Elizabet; only that this looks bad and you need to watch yourself and your cousin."

"What would you recommend, Vasco?"

"You're asking me?" He knows Elizabet values his opinions, but officially giving counsel to the Legate of the Congregation of Merchants still feels odd. He hasn’t quite processed that he’s working with a diplomat and not preparing to take to the sea once more.

"I trust you and you have a good read on things." 

"Watch Kurt; he knows more than he admits. Vet the people guarding your cousin, and continue to do as the Coin Guard asks. As far as they must know, you trust them and have no suspicions regarding their loyalty."

Elizabet drains the last of her wine, so Vasco reaches for the bottle and refills her glass and then his own.

“Aren’t politics grand?” 

“That’s a word for it.” 

***

"You need to actually throw a spell at me for this to work, Elizabet." 

It's early, far too early for Elizabet, but they're awake and Vasco suggested sparring in the garden so they can get a sense of how each of them moves in a fight, making it easier for them to work together when they're inevitably forced into combat. So, here they are in the garden, standing across from one another; Elizabet armed with her rings and Vasco wielding a blunted blade.

"I don't want to hurt you!"

Vasco smirks. "That's assuming you could even hit me..."

She'll show him. Concentrating, she conjures a spell in her hand, and aims it, sending it directly at him. He dodges it almost lazily. 

"Just the one? I know you can throw more than that at me!"

So she shoots three balls of shadow his way. He dodges, but she's managed to wipe the smug grin off his face at least. She casts; he dodges; so she casts again, and he jumps forward, inching his way towards her, sword in hand. Understanding his strategy, she anticipates where he will be and casts this in mind. He rolls out of the way, landing back on his feet, charging towards her. She puts up a shield and deflects his blow as she pivots out of his reach. 

Before she can ready another shield he swings at her flank so she casts stasis, freezing him in place, running backwards away from him. 

Vasco is fast. He's more than just fast. He's elegant; his attacks are fierce, and he's wholly unpredictable. In a real fight, his opponent would be dead before they had a chance to strike back at him.

The spell wears off and he's running towards her once more, and she feels her mana pool drying up. Concentrating hard, she readies a spell, and when he's within striking range, she casts; a shockwave sends Vasco flying backwards in the air and he lands with a dull thud. 

Admittedly, she hadn't planned to cast it as powerfully as she had, so she runs to check on him. When she gets to him, she sees that he's laughing with delight. 

"Well done! It's a rare person who knocks me off my feet." She helps him up. She's out of breath, and sweat is running down her face. He walks over  
to grab her waterskin and hands it to her. She drinks. 

"You're observant. You learned to anticipate where I'd be, and you understand your own limits. And you know how to make an escape if someone draws in too close. However, why didn’t you strike me after you froze me in place?"

“That seems a little underhanded for a spar.”

“We’d set no rules beyond ‘don’t kill one another’,” he cups her cheek and whispers in her ear, “Next time I want you to fight dirty for me.” 

Elizabet whimpers. 

"Do you need healing?" She stammers.

He laughs again. "I couldn't imagine you'd have the energy to, even if I needed it."

He's not wrong. 

Vasco continues, "I'll be sore tomorrow, but I'm fine. We were sparring; you weren't actually trying to kill me. I’ll wear my aches with pride."

The two of them head inside to bathe before Kurt arrives. Today they intend to visit the palace to see how Constantin is settling in. 

"Would you like to use the bath in my quarters, Vasco?" 

The tub in her bedroom is quite luxurious; while she doesn't understand how it works, the water comes out of the taps heated, and it's big enough for two people. Not that she expects to share the tub with him today; they've never actually seen one another fully unclothed, and given what he is going through, she's not going to suggest taking things further until he's ready to do so. 

"No, I'll use the one downstairs. Another day, perhaps?"

Elizabet soaks in the tub, probably longer than she should, but she couldn't resist after the morning's exertions. She's just applied her perfume and gotten herself dressed, and is sitting at the mirror starting on her hair when she hears a knock. 

"Hello?" 

"May I come in?"

"Of course, Vasco."

He walks in, and stands behind her and leans down, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her on the neck.

"You smell like vanilla."

"Do you approve?"

He kisses repeatedly, moving down towards her collarbone. "I could eat you right up."

A small moan escapes her at the thought, and he nips gently at the juncture between her shoulder and neck.

"Am I going to need a scarf when I head to the palace?" 

"I won't leave any marks you can't cover up." His fingers toy with the buttons on her blouse and he looks at her and she nods. Slowly, too slowly, he unbuttons them, sliding her blouse off her shoulders, leaving her clad in her corset alone. He looks at her reverantly before kissing down towards her breasts.

"I never saw you in one of these during the voyage," he says, somewhat breathlessly. 

"I don't wear them frequently; just at official engagements or meetings at the palace."

"I like it. But I also think I'd like it on the floor."

"Do it."

He reaches for the lacing at the back and undoes it, gently loosening the corset. She's about to pull it down when there's a knock at the door. 

"Green Blood." 

Shit. 

"Hello Kurt!"

"Are we heading to the palace to see your cousin or not?"

"I'm just getting ready; I need to do my hair and then I'll be ready to go."

"Is Vasco not coming with us?"

"He's in here with me...Helping me do my hair."

"Right. Well, I'll be downstairs. Don't take too long on your ‘hair’. And keep it down.”

Elizabet blushes. “Well, that’s a little awkward.” 

“He already knew.”

Elizabet reaches behind her to start re-lacing the corset when Vasco stops her and does it himself. 

“Where did you learn to lace a corset?”

“A short affair with the daughter of a minor noble on a voyage when I was 18. Unlike you, she did see fit to wear a corset on board and I became very good at getting her in and out of it. Her father was displeased when he caught us.” 

“Oh, I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble.” 

“He wanted me strung up, but my captain told me to ‘refrain from defiling the passengers’ and that was the end of it.”

With her corset done up, she puts her blouse back on and returns to braiding her hair. 

“Was she your first lover?” 

“No, my first was another sailor when I was 15. He was a year or two older and we snuck around the crew’s quarters for six months or so until I ended up transferred off the ship.”

“I’m sorry. Did you love him?” 

“I thought I did at the time.”

With her hair braided, Elizabet starts to pin her hair up. 

“What was your first time like?” 

Elizabet’s face falls and she puts down the pins she was holding. 

“It was a tumble in a Coin Tavern with a stranger in order to escape an arranged marriage set up by my uncle to a man more than 30 years my senior.”

Elizabet looks in the mirror and Vasco’s reflection stares back at her. He looks horrified. 

“Elizabet...”

“It’s fine. Well no, it’s not, but it worked. I didn’t have to get married to a tyrant, so it all turned out in the end.” 

She picks the pins back up and resumes pining her hair up. When she’s satisfied with how it looks she stands up and turns towards the door. Vasco stops her and pulls her into a hug. 

“I am so sorry.”

“I’m safe now,” she whispers.

They break the embrace and Vasco kisses Elizabet on the cheek and curls his fingers into hers. Together, they head downstairs to meet Kurt.

***

It has been an interesting day. She meets a new ally in Siora, the daughter of her clan’s _Mal_ , and escorts her to meet with Constantin. Elizabet agrees to help Siora stop a looming battle between her clan and the Bridge Alliance, so they make arrangements to meet the following day to head out into the countryside. After the meeting, Siora, Kurt and Vasco depart, giving Elizabet time alone to catch up with Constantin.

“I was surprised to see your handsome captain with you today. What’s the story there?” Constantin takes a slice of fruit from the tray between them and gestures to it. 

She grabs something unfamiliar - it looks almost like a cherry but not quite, and puts it in her mouth. It’s tart; far too tart. She winces and swallows.

“His admiral ordered him to provide me with any assistance I require.” 

Constantin grabs a slice of something that looks similar to an apple and takes an experimental bite before nodding approvingly. “Oh, Cousin, you’ll like this one. It’s sweeter than the others.”

She takes a slice. 

“You must be pleased to have him with you.” 

“Of course I value his company, but the circumstances in which I have it are unfortunate. He would prefer to be at sea.” 

“He will adjust, I’m sure of it.”

“I know. How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” he says dismissively, “Mr. De Courcillon and Lady Morange are splendid councillors.”

“Has there been any word from your parents?” 

“Of course not. It takes months for letters to arrive, and even so, Mother is too busy plotting her next assassination and Father would never take the time to write.” 

Elizabet knew all of this, but wondered if perhaps a letter might have been sent ahead of them. Possibly including a note from her mother. She aches for one last bit of love from her. 

Constantin’s voice rings out, interrupting her thoughts. “You miss her.”

“How did you know I was thinking of her?”

“You’re not a hard read when you’re not working, Elizabet. You look sad. You ask about my parents even though you know what they are because you were hoping to hear from your own mother.”

He pauses, taking one of the cherry-like fruits and puts it in his mouth. “Elizabet, this one is dreadful. I must ask them not to serve it again.”

“I’m sorry to say there was nothing from her. If there were, I would have ensured you received it immediately.” 

It had been a slim hope. Elizabet takes a deep breath, trying to tamp down the grief she feels.

Constantin slides closer to her and wraps his arm around her. 

“There’s no shame in missing her.”

“If I can find the cure for the malichor here, then perhaps I can make peace with the fact that I left her to die alone.” 

“You coming here to find the cure was her final wish. You were honouring her when you left.” 

At times the guilt breaks through her rational awareness of this and grips her; squeezing out any other thoughts. Such is the nature of grief.

“If I find the cure, nobody else will have to watch their mother die a slow, horrible death.” 

“There’s no doubt in my mind you will find it, because I know you, Elizabet, and when something is this important to you, you don’t give up until it’s done.” 

The conversation shifts to more enjoyable topics and when Elizabet departs Constantin hugs her warmly and asks her to visit him again soon. 

It’s after sunset when Elizabet leaves and the apartment is dark when she opens the door. At first, she assumes Vasco has gone to bed before the smell of smoke leads her to the garden where he’s reading by a small fire. She clears her throat and he turns to look at her.

“Would you care to join me?” 

“I’d love to.” She walks up and sits down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“I hadn’t taken you for the type to sit by a campfire.”

“I thought I should get some practice in, given that we will be heading out to explore the rest of the island shortly.” 

“Oh? And is my Naut captain now an expert in the great outdoors?” 

“I will build you a fire. The rest I would recommend leaving to Siora.”

“I hope we are able to help her.” 

“You’ll do the best you can.”

A gust of wind picks up and chills Elizabet. She shuffles closer to Vasco and he wraps his arms around her.

“I’m not wearing my coat tonight,” he teases. 

“I suppose I’ll just have to make do with your arms. Such a hardship.” 

“I will endeavour to meet my lady’s needs.” 

They sit together by the fire, warm in their embrace, until the flames die and only embers remain. 

“Your bed tonight?” Vasco asks, breaking the silence. 

“That would be lovely.” 

Vasco stands, and grabs a nearby bucket to dowse the embers before taking her hand to head inside. Together, they slip into her bed, between the silk sheets and she swears she hears a quiet sigh of pleasure escape from his lips as he pulls the covers over them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I’m including some spoilers for game events so skip over this if you haven’t finished.) 
> 
> ***
> 
> If Kurt betrays you during the coup, Vasco has a really great, sarcastic line of dialogue about how it’s good that they’re “discussing the merits of affording one’s trust to a group of sellswords”, which leads me to believe he wouldn’t trust the Coin Guard one bit. As an outsider to this society, I think he probably finds it rather ridiculous that all of the nations hire mercenaries as guards. So, I think he would have been extremely suspicious when he sees what is in the crates. 
> 
> In part, because of this, I didn’t see him and Kurt getting along at first. Vasco doesn’t trust him, and, in my world at least, Kurt perceives him as someone who is going to abandon his charge, leaving her heartbroken. And, Vasco is currently untested in combat, so Kurt is not too pleased at the prospect of putting his life in the hands of someone he’s not certain is able to hold his own in a fight. I don’t see them having spoken much during the voyage, so neither knows the other well at all at this point.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet helps out Siora and Kurt.

Bloodbath would be an accurate descriptor for the carnage in front of Vasco. It had been too late to stop the battle, so all they could do was find and treat the few survivors that remain on the field. 

Fires are raging around them and they step over pools of blood. Vasco has seen more than his fair share of the dead but never has he seen something like this. 

Elizabet remains composed; her face a mask of solemnity. At one point he sees her take Siora’s hand and squeeze it. 

When they’ve saved all the people they can, Elizabet leads them away from the battlefield to reconvene. Siora paces impatiently; hardly able to conceal her rage. 

“Siora’s mother was wounded and taken prisoner. We are going to try to free her.” 

He notices her voice catches slightly as she says this. 

It’s not a terribly long journey to the Bridge Alliance camp. Elizabet walks with Siora; they don’t talk but periodically she touches Siora’s shoulder or takes her hand. 

Vasco walks slightly behind her with Kurt. He feels the tension between them; they haven’t spoken outside of battle since their confrontation several days ago now. While he doesn’t particularly have any interest in conversing with her bodyguard, he can tell Elizabet is uncomfortable with their unwillingness to communicate and the frequent looks they give one another. So he tries, for her. 

“You fight well, Kurt. Drawing those beasts to you to keep them off Elizabet and allowing her to attack them from afar is clever.” 

“I was just doing what I get paid to do.”

Vasco rolls his eyes. Bloody grump. Still, he is doing this for Elizabet so he presses on. 

“And I am telling you that you are skilled at it.” 

“You know your way around a blade too. And you’re quick. In that last fight you slit that thing’s throat before it had a chance to get at Siora.”

“Does this mean I’ve earned her bodyguard’s approval?” 

“You know how to fight, is all I’m saying.” 

It’s better than nothing. Back to silence it is.

“She’s frequently too slow when dodging,” Kurt says suddenly. 

“So I’ve noticed.”

“There’s a technique that’s used in Thélème that I had been trying to teach her before we left. Magically speeding up one’s steps. Usually she takes to everything magic like a fish in water, but not this.”

“Perhaps she just needs more practice.”

“Or a different teacher.”

“She’s come this far with your instruction.” 

Kurt turns to Vasco and glares at him.

“Damnit boy, I am trying to ask for your fucking help!” 

He...wants his help? This is unexpected. Once he asked Elizabet what Kurt thought of their training and she told him that “He understands the reasoning and I can tell he respects your skill with a pistol but he will never admit it and as far as anyone else is concerned he thinks he would serve as the better instructor”. 

“You...want me to teach her magic?” 

He shrugs. “I did for thirteen years. You’re quick and know how to dodge a blow. Teach her that and the magic part should follow. She would have the book detailing the technique back at the apartment.” 

Vasco may not trust the man, or even like him much at this point, but he respects that Kurt can put Elizabet’s needs over his own reservations about him and their relationship.

“I’ll work with her on it, Kurt.” 

He nods in acknowledgement. 

It’s a start. 

***

Siora’s mother is dead so their mission shifts to retrieving her body for an appropriate burial. Elizabet is able to make the arrangements for her body to be released with surprising ease. 

She really wanted to save Siora’s mother. Her failure today reminds her of her failure with her own mother. With their mission completed, they leave and find a quiet spot to set up camp.

Siora is understandably withdrawn that night. Elizabet sits with her and tells her about the loss of her own mother. They bond that night telling each other stories about their mothers, and she’s even able to make Siora smile once or twice. She’s gained a new ally, and maybe even eventually, a new friend. 

During combat that day, Elizabet felt the familiar whisper of healing magic wash over her from time-to-time, loosening rigid muscles and closing the minor wounds that are inevitable in any fight. Siora is a healer. Tonight is not the night to bring up her own proclivities in the medium, but it is a conversation she plans to have. 

She may have found someone who can teach her and she is overjoyed. 

On their way back to New Sérène, they stop in at Siora’s village. She departs there, promising to meet them back in New Sérène in a few days. 

And so she is left with Kurt and Vasco on the hike back to the city. Elizabet doesn’t know the details but they seem to have reached some sort of truce. At least, she doesn’t notice them glaring at one another and they’re even talking a little so she’s no longer imagining herself waking up in the morning to find them in the midst of a duel in the garden.

*** 

“I’ve seen plenty of drowned bodies, and that man did not drown,” Vasco says firmly. 

The three of them are crowded around the body of Reiner, the young recruit Kurt had asked Elizabet to help him search for.

“I’m so sorry, Kurt.” 

A cover-up. The young man’s injuries are consistent with blunt-force trauma. She confronts the medic, and the rest of the evening is spent in the Coin Tavern talking to (and bribing) recruits. 

Elizabet is doing a lot more bribing than she’d expected. It’s to the point where she keeps a separate coin purse specifically for the bribes she needs to pay out. Luckily merchants seem happy to take the pelts, bones and other valuable parts of the creatures she kills, and she’s started foraging for other valuable materials. 

She’s become a hunter in order to pay the bribes needed to get her job done. Tìr Fradì is an interesting place. 

It ends with Kurt swearing to look into what happened. Elizabet is about to head back to the apartment with Vasco when Kurt stops her. 

“Could I sleep in one of your rooms tonight?” He rubs his neck nervously, “It would do me some good to be elsewhere for a bit.” 

“You’re always welcome at the apartment.” 

The candles are lit and the fire freshly stoked when Elizabet returns home with Kurt and Vasco. As they take their coats and armour off, she overhears Kurt muttering about how he wishes he’d bought a bottle at the Tavern before they left. 

“I have liquor here. Rum is your preference, correct?” 

“You don’t have to do that.”

“You just lost a friend. It would only be appropriate to toast to him tonight.”

“Thanks Green Blood.” 

Elizabet fetches a bottle of rum from the cabinet in the dining room. On her way back to the sitting room she runs into Vasco, carrying a book and heading upstairs.

“Will you join us, Love?”

Vasco shakes his head. “It would be better for it to just be the two of you. I’ll do some reading before I head to bed.”

“I expect it’ll be a late night for me. Should I sleep elsewhere so I don’t wake you up when I come to bed?” 

“No, I’ll put a pitcher of water by your side of the bed and perhaps you won’t deplete my stock of willow bark when you wake up with an aching head in the morning.” He gives her an affectionate pat on the rear before heading upstairs. 

Elizabet returns to the sitting room, grabs two glasses and hands Kurt the bottle. He looks at the label and whistles appreciatively. 

“You’re wasting the good stuff on me tonight.”

“No, we are toasting your friend, and I would not smear his memory with cheap liquor.” 

“By which you mean to say you do not have cheap liquor.” 

“You have me there.” 

Kurt pours two glasses and they lift their glasses in a toast before drinking. And they talk in a way they never have before. About Kurt’s childhood, and Reiner.

“I like this, Kurt. Learning about you, I mean.” 

“You can’t seriously find this interesting.”

“Why not? I care about you, and appreciate you. Most of my life you’ve watched over Constantin and I, and it’s nice to learn more about you.” 

“Well, I’m finished sharing for the night so you’ll have to pull this stuff out again if you have more burning questions.”

Elizabet smiles and takes a sip of her drink. 

“How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Elizabet says slowly. 

“I mean... With your captain. The man who is waiting in your bedroom for you to make it upstairs so he can have his way with - “

Elizabet bursts out laughing. 

“You truly think, when I go upstairs, stumbling drunk, he’s going to have any interest in anything aside from making sure I drink some water and get to sleep?” 

“Many men would.”

“Not him,” Elizabet pauses, “He’s a good man, you know. I get the sense that you’ve built him up to be something he isn’t. Like you’re expecting him to do something horrible.”

“Like break your heart?”

“Among other things. I’ve seen the tension between you, and I hope you two can get to know one another properly.”

“He has to leave eventually, Green Blood. Imagine how much more it will hurt if he leaves you in a year, or two years. Is he really worth it?” 

“Yes.”

“That quickly? Not even a little bit of hesitation?”

“None.”

“Don’t let it break you. I’ve seen enough men and women go bitter as a result of love gone bad.”

Elizabet sighs. “Did I ever tell you what Mother told me after the engagement was called off?”

He shakes his head. 

“She told me I’d likely never get married. Mother was gentle with her words, but she made it clear that it was likely I would never experience love the way she loved Father.” 

Her lower lip trembles as she talks of Mother and takes a moment to compose herself. 

“I accepted that. I took bed partners I did not love or sometimes even like in an attempt to fill a physical need because intimacy was locked away for me. It didn’t work.”

“And then I met him, and everything changed. Seeing him, talking to him; it all made my heart race and my soul sing. I was never supposed to have this, Kurt. So even when I thought it had to end when we docked, I was happy just because it happened. Because I could walk through life knowing that for a few brief months, I had my soul mate.”

“And the stupidest thing is that for months, I could not accept that I loved him. It was Constantin of all people who talked sense into me.”

“So can you not see that any moment with him is one I treasure? It’s a beautiful surprise and a gift from the world.”

Kurt looks dumbfounded. He refills his glass and takes a long drink. 

“I had no idea you felt that strongly for him.” 

“It’s not as if I went around telling people. It was easier to have you all believe we were just shagging on the nights I spent in his quarters.” 

“You mean you weren’t? You aren’t?...Nevermind, don’t answer that.”

Elizabet smirks. 

“I don’t know what our future holds, but what I do know is that I want to enjoy every single moment I have with him. So, could you quit telling him to stay away from me? Please?” 

“Sometimes it’s easier to think of you as the little girl shooting shadows at me and begging for more books to read.” 

Kurt sips his drink.

“But you’re all grown up now and have been for years. For what it’s worth, you’ve grown into a fine woman.”

“I had a good teacher who taught me all about honour.” 

Kurt drains the last of the rum in his glass. “Fuck, I’ve had too much to drink. I’ve gone soft.”

“Would you like to call it here before you say any more nice things about me?” 

Kurt chuckles. “Sure. Thank you. Not just for helping me find Reiner, but for being here tonight. Now go upstairs, drink some water and try not to land on your captain when you fall into bed.” 

“I was happy to be here for you. Goodnight, Kurt.” 

Elizabet’s steps are unsteady but she makes it up the stairs and pours herself a glass of water before stumbling into bed. Vasco rolls over and wraps his arm around her. 

“Good night with Kurt?” He mumbles sleepily. 

“Yeah. I think it helped him.” 

“S’good.” His breathing resumes to a steady rhythm, indicating he’s fallen back to sleep. 

Maybe it’s just the rum, but Elizabet feels accomplished for the first time since landing in Tìr Fradì.

In the morning, she wakes up to Vasco handing her a piece of willow bark and a glass of water. He looks apprehensive. 

“Can I ask you a favour?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet: I’ve found the words to describe how I love Vasco!
> 
> Also Elizabet: But instead of telling him I’ll tell Kurt instead. 
> 
> They’ll sort themselves out. Eventually.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasco learns his original name and Elizabet goes to lunch with Petrus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I generally prefer not to use a ton of in-game dialogue, but it’s kind of unavoidable at times, so there is a bit of dialogue pulled from the game in this chapter.

“I don’t know anything about real my family other than that they were probably affluent and from the Congregation. When I was born the Nauts and the merchant princes had a complex relationship. I must have been used to settle a debt or forge a truce. But that doesn’t matter.”

He pauses, and Elizabet nods at him encouragingly. 

“The mystery of where I come from has become an obsession. I need to know where I come from. If I were patient enough I could wait to become a fleet commander and then I would be told. But... since being laid off, such a promotion seems somewhat improbable.”

Vasco spoke rarely about his origins. Elizabet has figured out it is a sore spot for him so she never brings it up unless he initiates the conversation. 

But now she can help him, something that warms her.

“Would you like my help finding this information?”

“Yes. The records of all seamen stationed on the island are in their respective ports. Mine must be in the harbour office here in New Sérène and must contain my family name. But if I go there I’d be spotted right away.”

“Show me where I need to go and I’ll sneak in and grab your file after dark tonight.” 

“Thank you.”

Armed with a sleeping potion she brewed that morning, they head to the Coin Tavern and drop it off, ensuring that the guards on duty will remain out of commission when Elizabet goes in after the file.

All it took was the promise of helping Dieder expand his business to San Matheus. A fairly easy arrangement. 

“It’ll give me a chance to get in close with a member of the Coin Guard. See if I can find out what they’re up to,” Vasco mutters to Elizabet after they leave the tavern. 

Vasco is still extremely suspicious of the Coin Guard. Elizabet has had no luck finding out anything more about the guns they saw, but Vasco may have more success as someone not formally affiliated with the Congregation. 

And so she sneaks into the harbour office that night. It is a little thrilling, she must admit. As children, Constantin was constantly sneaking around, but Elizabet never joined him, fearful of getting caught. The thought that she is doing it as an adult - and a Legate at that, fills her with a strange sense of excitement and wonder. 

His file is easy enough to find, so she grabs it and slips out the back door and over a fence. Vasco’s face lights up when he sees her with it. 

He’s waited 24 years for this, so instead of wandering home right away she takes his hand and walks down the street until she finds a discreet spot out of the way. She casts a ball of light in her palm and gestures towards the file in his hand. He opens it. 

“So I was right. My real name was Leandre, son of the d’Arcy family in Sérène. Nobles, I suppose?”

“Yes. I must admit I had no idea they had given a son to the Nauts.”

“To think I spent my childhood polishing ship bridges when I could have been wearing silk.”

Elizabet thinks of her childhood and the days she spent wishing her, Constantin and Mother were somewhere far away from Uncle. Of her arranged marriage. And days spent at court surrounded by people but feeling more alone than ever. 

“Growing up in nobility is not as simple as it sounds.”

“I know. You’ve told me the stories. I found my real name thanks to you. That’s what I wanted. Thank you.”

The name d’Arcy is familiar to her; it takes her a few moments to remember meeting a boy at court by that name. 

“Leandre d’Arcy... I remember coming across a d’Arcy at my uncle’s court. Your brother no doubt.”

Vasco looks shocked. “My brother? What’s he like?” 

“It was a long time ago... We were children. I couldn’t tell you what he looks like today.” 

She has few fond memories of the children she met at court, but does not mention this. 

“A brother...I wonder if we are alike despite our completely different lives? Thank you for sharing this... And telling me about him. You gave me back my identity; this is more important than the Nauts care to admit.”

Vasco is being far more open about this topic than he ever has previously with her. Elizabet decides to ask the question she’s pondered since shortly after meeting him.

“Do you ever wish you hadn’t been given to the Nauts?”

“How could I not? I never got to experience a mother’s love or a lavish youth.”

“You do have happy memories from what you’ve told me.”

He smiles. “I remember the first time I climbed up the shrouds. The incredible view, the dizziness and the sensation of complete freedom. It was an unforgettable moment.” 

“You always did look so happy when you were working up in the air on the voyage.”

“Isn’t that how I caught your eye in the first place?”

She blushes. “You were quite dashing....” she pauses, “are quite dashing,” she says, correcting herself. “It sounds amazing.”

“It was. I wouldn’t trade that memory for all the gold in the world.” He closes the file and Elizabet dispels the light in her palm. 

“You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Elizabet smiles at him, takes his hand and they head home to the apartment. As they walk, she continues their conversation.

“Had you ever heard of the d’Arcys before?”

“I had not. As you know, there are many noble families in Sérène. And there was a time when many of them had to give a child to the Nauts.”

Elizabet had not known this. It was not a topic that came up frequently in Sérène; it was as if it was a secret shoved under a rug and never spoken of, at court or otherwise. 

Really, the only time Nauts came up in the palace was Uncle periodically grumbling about how they’re “a bunch of bloody crooks”. He never elaborated and Elizabet generally avoided asking him questions or speaking to him whenever she could help it.

“I don’t remember your family very well but I could try to tell you about them if you like,” she offers. 

“I would have loved to have met them but I’m afraid that hearing about them would only reopen old wounds.”

She squeezes his hand. 

“You’re a good person, Elizabet.”

***

The restaurant she sits in is small, but caters to the richest individuals in San Matheus. It had been Petrus’ idea; after their reunion the other day, he invited her out, telling her he wanted to ‘catch up’. 

Truth be told, Elizabet hates San Matheus already. Her first experience with the city was watching them burn one of those massive creatures at the stake, as a young Native man sobbed in the street before being murdered in cold blood. Then, she had a run in with a member of the Ordo Luminis who was most displeased when she rejected his faith. 

Even if she did follow his faith, she would never associate herself with such a monstrous person.

The charred remains of the creature stand in the square as a reminder. It’s cruel and barbaric and she’s grateful Siora wasn’t with them when they arrived. 

And the restaurant she’s in now is exceedingly snobbish; the sort of place that serves you a tiny plate of food and expects you to be satisfied. She’s going to leave hungrier than she was when she came in. 

At least she might have something to nibble on when she returns to the apartments. Vasco told her this morning he planned to try his hand at baking while she was out. When she asked him why, he told her he’d always wanted to try it. 

She smiles at the thought of him in the kitchen kneading a ball of dough, clad in an apron covered in flour. Learning these little things about him is one of her favourite things. What he wants to experience for the first time; the things that bring him joy.

She should stop by the bookstore after this and find a book of poetry to bring back for him. 

Petrus walks in, spots her and waves before coming to sit down across from her. He orders them a bottle of wine. 

At first their conversation centres mostly about reminiscing about their time at her uncle’s court. He asks what she has been up to the last few years (“Little of note; I spent the last few years caring for my mother when she came down with the malichor”), and how she likes her position. 

The wine is excellent, she admits to herself. 

“You and that Naut who follows you are... close.”

She had wondered when he would bring it up but hoped it wouldn’t be this quickly after joining her. 

“Vasco is a good man, and a reliable friend.” 

“I suspect he is more than that to you. I had not realized it was common practice for friends to share a bed.” 

Shit. She had not thought to suggest they sleep in separate quarters when Petrus arrived at the apartment last night. He must have seen them come downstairs together this morning.

“We are close, yes.”

She doesn’t tell Petrus that her and Vasco have yet to talk about what they actually are to one another. That’s not any of his business. It’s something she wants to bring up, but she can never quite find the words to do it. And her fear of rejection is gnawing at her; what if Vasco tells her he wants nothing more than whatever it is they’re up to? That he can not see himself making love to her or committing to her? 

And so she stays quiet and enjoys the sweet pleasure of long talks late into the night, holding his hand and falling asleep in his arms. It’s more romance than she ever expected to experience.

“As you are aware, there is no trouble in a discreet dalliance with the Naut, but as the niece of Prince d’Orsay, you have an opportunity to enter into a politically advantageous marriage.”

And there it is; the reason she had been dreading this talk. The food arrives. Do the people of San Matheus have tiny stomachs? Elizabet takes her first bite tentatively; it’s delicious at least. 

“And what if I have no interest in a marriage not built upon love and passion?” 

“Then I would suggest finding such a match amongst the nobility.”

Elizabet sighs, and takes a breath, willing her voice to remain steady; her tone diplomatic. 

“While I appreciate your advice, Vasco makes me happy. I will not end what we share for reasons as silly as how we may be perceived by nobility.”

“People will talk,” he warns. 

Elizabet thinks of her mark. The stares at court, the frightened whispers other nobles thought she wouldn’t notice, children alienating her and the desperate, often crushing loneliness she’s felt over the years.

“They already talk,” she says softly.

Petrus looks desperately sad then, and Elizabet notices a flash of something that looks like guilt cross his face before he catches himself and returns to a carefully neutral mask. 

“Yes, I suppose they do.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet talks to Siora about healing and Vasco meets his brother.

Several weeks go by, with Vasco silent on the matter of his origins. Elizabet finds herself meeting with clans on the island, grateful to have Siora with her to act as an ambassador and, occasionally, a translator. She also helps Petrus find information on the Cardinal to blackmail her; a task Vasco finds most distasteful. 

"So, you and Petrus are finding evidence the Cardinal is engaging in illicit activities?

"Yes." 

"And Petrus intends to use this to improve his position at court?"

"I believe so."

Vasco shakes his head. "I don't get why he's pulled you into this."

Admittedly, Elizabet hates it too, but Petrus is a powerful ally to have on her side so she's going along with it. 

"Sometimes diplomacy leads to...interesting tasks."

"May I come along with you two?" 

"Of course, though given how adverse you are to it, I'm a little surprised you wouldn't just rather stay at the apartment."

Vasco grins ruefully. "I would rather stay at the apartment, but there's not a chance I would stay home while you put yourself in danger without me just so the Bishop can find something to embarass the Cardinal with."

And so, that is how they end up disguised as servants, rummaging through the Cardinal's quarters. Elizabet has probably had stranger missions, but she can't think of any at the moment. 

They're in a carriage heading back to New Sérène when Vasco broaches the topic of his family once again. 

“Elizabet... I’d like to know more about my family. I need to know what became of them. Could you accompany me to see Lady Morange? I’m afraid that without you she may refuse to give me any information.”

“Of course. Shall we go in the morning?”

***

“Well I could tell you many things about them but I suspect you want to know something in particular?”

“Are there any members of this family on the island?”

“Indeed. Bastien d’Arcy, the son of the family has been in New Sérène for some time. Last I heard about it he was doing business. But that doesn’t help in knowing where he is. The d’Arcy’s first attempt at establishing themselves on this  
island wasn’t very fruitful... But I seem to recall that the son has found a competent associate who has been working here for a long time.”

When she questions why Elizabet is looking for this information, she smoothly responds that she is thinking of going into business with the family. Lady Morange cautions her, saying Bastien is a poor business partner but encourages her to form  
her own opinion.

Vasco doesn't say much on the way to speak with Bastien's business partner. His partner paints a poor picture of Bastien, and provides information on his whereabouts. 

"It looks like we need to head to Hikmet to find your brother."

With several days before the next carriage to Hikmet, they decide to walk, which means approaching Siora about joining them. Elizabet doesn't quite trust her skills out in the bush to feel comfortable heading out into it without Siora. 

***

"I don't understand _renaigse_ villages. There's no space, they smell disgusting, and you are so far away from nature."

The three of them had been walking for the better part of the day, and the sun is hanging low in the sky. Soon they will need to stop and make camp. They've spent the last hour discussing their respective upbringings, which naturally led to  
Siora expressing her distaste for the colony cities.

"The close proximity makes it easier to build and maintain the things people need. There are merchants, doctors, tradesmen, and anything else someone needs, all within the walls of the city."

"But everything feels so sad." 

Elizabet snorts at that. "New Sérène is positively cheery compared to Sérène, back on the continent. You would find Sérène completely unacceptable." 

"You are _On ol Menawi_. You do not belong in the city."

It's not the first time Siora has told her this. While Elizabet is still learning how to survive in the bush, she admits in some ways she feels more at home away from the lights and the bustle of the city. Just as when they were on the sea, Elizabet can see the stars with far more clarity out in the woods. 

Tonight, after Siora assures her it is safe for her to  
do so, she moves away from the fire, and leans against a rock to look up at the sky; searching for the constellations Vasco taught her on the voyage. 

"Would you care for some company?"

"Your company? Always." 

Vasco sits down next to her. 

"The stars here are the same as the ones we saw on the ocean."

"They are. They're always in the sky, no matter where you are. Though some are only visible in certain parts of the world or at specific times of the year."

"When we are out traveling, I often miss our comfortable bed, and the food you can get in the city, and our bath but then I look up to the sky and it is like none of that matters anymore."

Vasco puts his arm around her. 

"You're discovering a part of yourself you had no idea existed before leaving Sérène."

"I feel better here. On the island, I mean. I'm not as anxious. I still have trouble, and there are moments when I feel like I can't escape the horrible dread that consumes me. But it's not consistent, the way it was on the continent. It's like...I was trapped at the palace, and the walls were closing in on me, and I could never escape, so I would feel as if I were suffocating."

Vasco kisses her cheek before Elizabet continues.

"At first, I thought it was because I was doing work I am good at and enjoy, but maybe there's something about the island that helps. I can actually breathe, and travel, and see things I could never even imagine. I'm sure that's ridiculous." 

"I don't think that's ridiculous at all." 

Elizabet and Vasco never did make it back to camp that night, and in the morning, she wakes up to find Siora standing over them looking amused. 

"It is cute to see you _minundhanem_ fall asleep under the stars."

Siora has never used that word before, and Elizabet isn't sure what it means.

That morning, as they continue on to Hikmet, Elizabet draws up her courage to talk to Siora about her healing magic. 

"You are an excellent healer, Siora."

Siora shakes her head. "I am decent, though there are many more skilled healers among my people."

"You are better than I am."

Siora stares blankly at her. "You can heal?" 

"Not well, but yes."

Vasco cuts in. "She's far better than she's giving herself credit for. On our voyage here she fixed me up when I cracked a couple of my ribs. I was out of commission for two weeks instead of six thanks to her."

"What training have you had?"

"None."

Siora's jaw drops. "So what you know, you've learned on your own? You were able to fix broken bones with no formal training?"

"Not entirely -" 

"Yes," Vasco interrupts, "She's brilliant."

"I have to be touching a wound or injury to heal it. In battle, you can heal us from a distance. I'd like to be able to do that, but have no idea where to start."

"So you are seeking a tutor, yes?"

"If you would be willing to offer your assistance. I've studied alchemy, and would be happy to teach you in return."

Siora considers for a moment. "I will teach you what I know. But you will need to work with someone more gifted eventually." 

"Why is that?" 

"To do what you can do without any training suggests great potential. There are stories of a healer who once lived among my people in another clan who could bring someone back from even the brink of death. Her talents were legendary. But she was stolen by the _renaigse_. In time, you may be able to match her skill." 

Elizabet is disgusted to hear about the kidnapping of this woman.

"I am so sorry to hear my people kidnapped the woman you are speaking of. Please know that I would never condone such a thing, and that I will always do everything I can to ensure that we have a positive, mutually beneficial relationship with  
your people."

Siora puts her hand on Elizabet's shoulder. "You are not of the people who stole her." 

***

In Hikmet, they discover a merchant who had not received payment for his goods has hired thugs to go after Vasco's brother. Elizabet is able to scare off the thugs by introducing herself and threatening to report them to the Governor, and she discovers that Bastien is precisely the sort of noble she finds most tiring to deal with. When he asks for Vasco's name, he gives it as "Vasco, Naut captain and sea given", and the two of them depart. 

“Why didn’t you tell him who you were?”

“But... I did tell him.”

“I was stupid. I resented everyone, including you at first, for the life I didn’t get to live. You had it all, everything I thought I was entitled to. But after seeing Bastien... I realized that in the end... I am exactly who I wanted to be. A Naut, and a proud one at that.”

“I am glad to hear it. No more regrets?”

“No more regrets. I certainly don’t regret not being called Leandre d’Arcy.”

"You don't look like a Leandre, anyway. Vasco suits you."

Vasco chuckles and puts his arm around her.

“Meeting your brother under those circumstances must have been upsetting.”

“I had high expectations for the encounter and was naively hoping for some emotional reunion...and I found myself in front of a conceited and selfish idiot. Need I say more?”

Elizabet had come to the same conclusions regarding Bastien. He was a distinctly unpleasant person and reminds her of all of the stuck-up pricks she encountered at her uncle's court. 

“While it was disappointing, it allowed you to assert yourself and sweep your regrets away.”

“This is true,” he pauses, pulling her closer to him, “I am grateful to you. You helped me and accompanied me in a period of doubt. Thanks to you I feel like myself.”

"I am glad, Vasco."

"When we get back to New Sérène, I'd like to ask Admiral Cabral for a loyalty mission, to prove my commitment to the Nauts. It will be a difficult task, but I am confident I will be successful. Would you be willing to help me?"

"Not just willing, but honoured that you would trust me to help you."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasco and Elizabet investigate a ship wreck.

Elizabet goes with Vasco when he heads to port to meet with the Admiral. She's never actually met Admiral Cabral before, and politely introduces herself. The Admiral tells her that she is well aware of who Elizabet is, and gives her a bit of an  
odd look before turning her gaze to Vasco. 

Vasco's loyalty mission is to investigate a sunken ship washed up on the shore of the island to determine what happened. It's hard to say what they'll find when they arrive at the wreckage, but Elizabet suspects it shouldn't just be the two of  
them going. 

"We're bound to run into strange beasts on our way; possibly even ones we haven't seen before. It might be a good idea to bring Siora."

"Agreed. Could you talk to Kurt to see if he would also be willing to join us?"

Kurt? She's surprised he would want Kurt along with them. 

"If what I'm thinking happened is correct, we're going to need him," Vasco explains. 

And so Elizabet talks to Kurt.

"You - no, your captain, wants me to join the lot of you to explore a wrecked ship? And he specifically asked for me?"

"Yes. He has a theory and says if he is right, your skills would be useful."

Kurt sighs. "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning." 

"I'll meet you outside the apartment at dawn."

Elizabet is just happy Kurt agreed to join them so she doesn’t bother to mention that she had been hoping to leave sometime after the sun has risen. Kurt is well aware of her preference for sleeping in, so he’s probably doing it on purpose. Just like when she was young and talked back to him so he would knock on her door at dawn, knowing full well she had been up late reading. 

Oh well, it’ll ‘build character’, as Kurt always told her. Who needs sleep anyway? 

The journey to the ship is a slow one, as they're forced to wander through thick forests and frequently encounter wild animals. It's nice, though; Vasco is in a good mood, and it's giving her a chance to work with Siora on her healing. Even Kurt is somewhat affiable, and she occasionally overhears him and Vasco discussing combat strategy. 

A particularly ugly fight ends with Elizabet getting charged and knocked to the ground. As the creature turns to charge again, Vasco fires and it falls dead just short of her. Elizabet is lucky; she's not badly wounded, but her thighs are horribly tender and bruised from the impact. She opens her bag, looking for a healing potion. 

"No, heal yourself," Siora says, running over to her. 

"I can't see or touch the wound. I suppose we could go off a bit and I can remove my breeches and look things over..."

Because stripping down to her smalls in front of Kurt is absolutely not happening, and Kurt is very pointedly looking elsewhere at the moment with a bright red face. 

"You know where you're hurt, yes?"

"I can certainly feel it." 

"Then you don't need to be touching it. Concentrate, and imagine your energy going from your fingertips into your body. Do not push too hard; you tire yourself out too quickly when you do."

Elizabet gives it a try. Her thighs tingle a bit, but her magic is not doing anything for her injury. She shakes her head.

"Try closing your eyes. Block everything else out."

Closing her eyes, she takes a few deep breaths and tries again. This time, her thighs feel warm, and she wills the bruising to fade, and sends waves of energy over her muscles and ligaments. By no means is she quick; she's far slower than Siora,  
but eventually the pain fades completely. 

"I did it! I fixed it!" Elizabet stands up and does a few stretches, checking to make sure she has full range of motion. 

"Good. Soon we can start working on healing during a fight."

Siora and Kurt start walking ahead, and Elizabet turns to follow before Vasco stops her. He hugs her and kisses her on the cheek. 

"That was remarkable."

"I've had some practice, is all." 

"You're far too modest, Elizabet."

Elizabet takes his hand, and they jog to catch up to Siora and Kurt.

The wreckage is through a cave filled with horrifying flying beasts that spit venom. Elizabet and Vasco hang back, while Kurt and Siora fight up close. They manage to kill the hoard quickly, and without anyone getting injured. 

"I've always hated _Dosantats_ ," Siora grumbles.

They find the Captain's journal, which Vasco pockets, and they head towards the wreckage. 

"I'll stay in the cave and look around, Green Blood!" 

Pieces of the wreckage is strewn all over the beach, and they find several dead bodies but no sign of potential survivors. Elizabet reaches the other side of the ship's hull, and with a sinking feeling in her stomach, realizes exactly what happened. 

"I fucking hate being right sometimes," Vasco says beside her. 

But there's no sign of the creature; a _nadaig_ , Siora says they’re called. Which means...

"Kurt, watch out!" Elizabet screams.

Kurt rushes out of the cave, heavy footsteps following shortly behind him. 

"Any tips, Siora?" 

"Stand back and avoid its lightning attacks. Break off its armour by shooting it."

Elizabet hears Siora say something that sounds mournful in her language before rushing it, her sword set ablaze. 

As Vasco had predicted, Kurt is essential to the fight; keeping the _nadaig_ distracted while Elizabet and Vasco shoot at it. It's a long fight, and at one point Vasco dives, pushing Elizabet to the ground just in time to avoid a blast of lightning that would have almost certainly been fatal. 

"That reminds me, Kurt wants me to work with you on dodging," Vasco says, as he pulls her back up to her feet. 

"Thanks, Love."

It's Vasco who makes the killing shot; striking it between the eyes. Fighting it was unfortunate and Elizabet is angry that it had been chained up on the ship, costing it and the crew their lives. 

"Is everyone fine?" 

Siora nods. Kurt points to a few scrapes and what looks to be a minor burn on his arm and shrugs. Elizabet walks over to Kurt, and concentrates, casting a healing spell which clears the worst of the burn.

"We know what happened to the ship and crew, so we should get out of here before we run into anything else." 

Elizabet nods at Vasco and they depart back through the cave.

They make camp for the night and Elizabet volunteers to go with Siora to forage for firewood and fruit to supplement their travel rations. 

"How long have you and Vasco been lovers?"

Siora has a blunt manner of speaking that Elizabet usually finds refreshing; in many ways it’s simpler than her own culture, where one must parse hidden meanings from statements and questions. Say the wrong thing, or reveal too much and you could be the target of an assassination attempt, blackmail, or simply mocked by your peers. It’s a delicate dance and while Elizabet excels at it, there are some days she just wants to ask a direct question and get a straight answer in return.

There's no malice behind the question; simply  
curiosity, so Elizabet answers honestly. 

"I'm unsure we even are lovers. We grew close on the voyage here, and he's been with me ever since. We departed on the voyage seven months ago and have been on the island for three."

"How can you be unsure if you are lovers? Have you not talked to him about it?"

Elizabet shakes her head. 

"Your culture is strange. Do you have sex?"

Elizabet’s face heats up. “We haven't..."

"But you share a bed, yes?"

"We do." 

"And you love him?"

"I do." 

"And he loves you." She phrases it as a statement, not a question. 

"I don't know for sure if he does or not."

Siora raises her eyebrow at Elizabet. 

"You need to pay more attention. I knew you two loved one another within five minutes of meeting you."

"When we get back to camp," Siora continues, "tell him you love him and would like to make love. Honesty is important."

Elizabet's face is burning. "It isn't that easy!" she stammers. 

"I think it is. I think it is you that is making it difficult." Siora gives her a smile before turning around to return to camp. 

Elizabet sighs and follows her. 

During their journey back to New Sérène, the four of them stop and perform various tasks, and Elizabet meets with the _Mal_ of a nearby clan with Siora. When they make it back to the apartment, Elizabet takes a hard-earned bath and slides under the covers of their bed. Vasco joins her shortly afterwards. 

"Come with me to meet the admiral tomorrow evening?" 

"Evening? I thought you would want to go in the morning." 

Vasco rolls over and puts his arm over her stomach, resting his head on her shoulder. 

"We've had far too many early days out in the country. I want to sleep in with you, eat a leisurely meal in our dining room, and relax. Admiral Cabral can wait a little while longer to receive my report."

"That sounds perfect." 

It has been months since Elizabet has had the majority of a day off. In fact, the last day off she remembers was the day she spent in Vasco’s quarters keeping him company after healing him the night before. With meetings and dinner parties when she is in the city, and frequent visits to the countryside, she doesn’t get a lot of time off. 

Waking up just before mid-day with Vasco next to her reading a book is a decadence she resolves to indulge in more frequently. 

“Good book?” 

“Not bad. How did you sleep? You must have needed it.”

“I don’t think I woke up once overnight. Have you been up long?” 

“An hour or two; not a terribly long time.”

“You could have gone downstairs to get some breakfast.”

“I could have, but I was happier staying in bed with a beautiful woman beside me.” 

Elizabet kisses him on the cheek. “Shall we head down and eat?”

“Lead the way.” 

They dress, and Elizabet quickly brushes her hair; not bothering to braid and pin it, and head downstairs and into the dining room. Judy brings them breakfast. She remembers Vasco’s tea, which he thanks her effusively for. 

“She makes it perfectly every time,” he says, taking a sip. 

The rest of the afternoon is similarly quiet; they sit on the couch together and read, and chat with Petrus when he comes back to the apartment. 

Apparently Petrus is looking to arrange a fight with a bookmaker. 

“I need a champion. Someone who will win the fight we arrange. But I will convince Candy Cane to make a large bet against you.”

Vasco interjects. “So, we broke into the Cardinal’s quarters, and now you want Elizabet to fight in the coin arena for you?”

“That is correct.”

“Can you not be your own champion?” 

“For the plan to work, the cardinal must not expect a thing. It must be someone she does not know well, but with a reputation that precedes them,” he turns towards her, “My child, you are extremely skilled in combat.” 

Elizabet sighs. She would almost be impressed by his scheming if it didn’t involve her throwing herself in the ring and fighting a stranger for money. 

“I’ll do it,” she says weakly. 

“Excellent. I will make the arrangements.”

Petrus leaves the room and Vasco rolls his eyes. 

“Ridiculous lengths to go to in the hopes of improving his position.” 

“Oh, Love, this is tame. He’s not trying to kill her, just blackmail her. I never told you about the time someone tried to assassinate me when I was 12, did I?” 

Vasco looks shocked. “What?!”

“My uncle had angered some other noble; something to do with the price of goods or land, I can’t remember. Constantin was too obvious a target so he went after me. He hired thugs to tail me at a ball being held at the palace.”

“Charming.”

“Kurt was with me, of course. He noticed them, and when all three made their move, he decapitated the first, ran through the second, and I dealt with the third. That was the first time I killed a person; first time I’d seen someone die, period, in fact.” 

“Were you injured?”

“Bruises. I tripped as I was running away, but avoided anything worse than that. I was traumatized more than anything. Once they were all dead I started crying so hard I must have passed out and woke up to Kurt carrying me to Mother’s room.” 

“Mother had left the ball and had returned to her quarters. She was crying when we got there, and insisted the servants bring me a slice of my favourite cake. Mother held me as I ate it in her bed. I remember being pleased because she had never let me eat in the bedroom before.”

“My uncle investigated. And when he found the man responsible, he was... Well, you can imagine how that went. Mother would not let Uncle take me to the execution, and I was terribly grateful to her. I didn’t want to watch someone else die.”

“You uncle wanted to bring a child to an execution?”

“Yes. Said it would teach us how the world works. He made Constantin go.” 

“That’s one way to raise a child, I suppose.”

Elizabet snorts. “Love and affection were never his strengths.”

As the afternoon fades, they get ready to head to the port. 

Admiral Cabral is pleased with Vasco’s report and reinstates him, sending him to the tattoo parlour. He invites Elizabet to join him. 

She’s never actually seen anyone get tattooed before. On the continent it’s extremely rare to see anyone aside from Nauts with tattoos so it’s not as if the opportunity ever presented itself before today. 

Vasco’s eyes are closed as the tattoo artist works. She’s unsure if it would be appropriate to chat so she sits and watches.

“Are you still with me, Elizabet?”

“Of course, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re so quiet. I had wondered if perhaps it was a little much for you to watch and that you had stepped out.”

“No, just unsure if I should be talking.”

“You can talk. In case you haven’t noticed, I enjoy talking to you.”

“Where’s the most painful place to get tattooed?”

“Ribs,” he answers immediately. 

“You’ve put some thought into it, I see.”

“I had a lot of time to come to that conclusion as I was getting the tattoos on my ribs. It took the better part of a day.”

Elizabet winces. “How about least painful?” 

“Biceps.” 

“You almost sound as if you’re pondering a visit. Looking to join us?” the tattoo artist pipes up. 

“What do you think, Vasco, would I make a good Naut?” 

“You’d always be welcome on my ship. I don’t think we have ever had anyone with the ability to heal using magic in our ranks.”

“Perhaps once my missions are complete I will run away from court and follow you out to sea.” 

Vasco smiles then, and reaches out for her hand. Elizabet moves closer and takes it. 

“Best hold on to this one, Captain. Not many other fancy palace types would follow you out to sea. No offence meant, my lady.”

Elizabet laughs. “I’ve never enjoyed the balls and the fancy outfits. Diplomacy is my expertise.” 

After finishing up at the tattoo parlour, Elizabet and Vasco wander to the edge of the pier and look out over the water. 

Vasco has an energy she’s never seen in him before. Not just happy or relaxed but content; truly content, perhaps for the first time since she’s met him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the words of Cassandra Pentaghast from Dragon Age: Inquisition - “It’s literature. Smutty literature.”

Vasco and Elizabet stand at the port, looking out over the sea, just before sunset. He inhales deeply. 

“You miss the sea air in your lungs.”

“Aye, I do.”

“I miss the smell of the sea on you.”

He turns to her. “There’s a beach, not too far from here. Would you fancy a walk?”

“I would love to, Vasco.” 

The beach is relatively secluded; just outside town and the port, and the sand is a brilliant white. Vasco takes his boots off and steps into the water. It takes Elizabet a little longer to undo the various buckles on hers, but eventually she joins him, curling her toes into the wet sand; her skirt skimming the top of the water. 

He’s happy; blissfully happy and she could never take this away from him. 

“Now that the Admiral has forgiven you, do you intend to set sail again?”

“Without a doubt, but do not worry, I will not leave you before I find out where our story leads.”

He intends to stay until she sees her duties through. Her mind and heart race; once the cure is found and Constantin is settled, she truly could join him at sea! 

“I hope that once this is all over I will get to sail with you again.”

“I hope so too. To be truthful, I’d rather not leave these shores without you.”

Elizabet smiles as tears of joy well in her eyes. She blinks them away and turns to look at the brilliant orange glow of the sky as the sun sets. 

Vasco takes her hand, almost tentatively.

“Sea and love share a bitter bite. The sea seizes and love seizes.”

“Love scalds us and the sea scalds us. For neither are free from tempest’s might.”

“A poem?”

He looks nervous and stares down at the water.

“A poem I read and which I was trying to remember. It makes me think of you. Of us.”

“Oh, Vasco...” Elizabet pulls him into an embrace and kisses him, running her tongue along his lips, begging for entrance. He deepens the kiss as he angles his thigh between her legs, allowing her to grind against it. She moans into his mouth. Hungry for air, Elizabet reluctantly breaks the kiss. Vasco’s pupils are dilated, and he is breathing hard. 

“We should return to our quarters before we end up naked on the beach.”

Vasco gestures back towards the city.

“I follow wherever you may lead, Elizabet.”

Holding his hand the entire way, she runs, not walks through the city streets, narrowly avoiding several collisions, and shouting apologies as she runs. Vasco laughs warmly just behind her. 

Elizabet unlocks the door and pushes it open. Scanning the coat rack, it looks as if Siora is here, but Petrus and Kurt must be out for the evening.

“Siora is home. Hopefully she won’t hear anything.”

“I’ve no intention of keeping you quiet tonight.”

Heat flows through her and she whimpers with need.

She divests herself of her outer layers quickly, frantically tearing them off herself and haphazardly hanging them up. 

Vasco lifts her up, and she shrieks with surprise. 

“Does my handsome captain intend to carry me to bed?”

“That he does, with your permission.”

“Carry me to the stars, Love.” 

He effortlessly carries her up the stairs and into their quarters, shutting the door behind them with his foot. He tenderly puts her down on the bed and climbs on top of her, leaning down to kiss her. 

“I think we are still wearing entirely too much clothing.” 

“Would you care to undress me, Elizabet?” 

Grabbing the hem of his shirt, she lifts it and pulls it over his head. Slowly, tenderly, she kisses down his neck, before moving to his chest, taking a pierced nipple into her mouth and sucking.

“Elizabet...” he moans. The sound of her name only increases the throbbing between her legs and she bucks her hips, trying to get some friction. Vasco lifts his hips. 

“Impatient, are we?” 

Elizabet continues downwards, planting kisses on the hard planes of his stomach before reaching his breeches. She wraps her hand around his hard cock through his breeches and he moans. 

“I like hearing you moan.”

She pulls down his breeches and smalls, and he kicks them off his legs. 

“Your turn now.” With skilled fingers, he rapidly unbuttons her blouse and she pulls it off her shoulders and throws it across the room. He pauses, staring reverently at her breasts before taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before turning to the other and giving it the same attention. 

She bites her lip, trying to stifle her moans. He looks up at her. 

“I would hear you cry your pleasure to the heavens.” 

He kisses down her body until reaching the waistband of her skirt. He fumbles around, trying to figure out how to loosen it.

“Buttons, in the back.” Elizabet sits up, allowing him access to the back of her skirt. She quickly unpins her hair, and undoes her braid as he works to unbutton her skirt.

“You’d think I’d never undressed a woman before.”

“No, you’ve just never fully undressed me,” she smirks. 

With the buttons now undone, he divests her of it and her smalls in one fell swoop. Vasco sits back on his feet and looks at her. 

“You are beautiful.” 

“As are you.” 

Elizabet wraps her hand around his cock, giving it a few experimental strokes. His breath hitches and his hand grasps hers, stilling her. 

“Let me give you pleasure first.” His left hand gently pushes her back down, while his right hand grabs her knee, spreading her legs. 

He peppers open-mouthed kisses to the side of her knee, up her thigh, making his way to her core. He kisses her centre and gives it an experimental lick. 

“Vasco wait.”

He sits up immediately. 

“Is everything all right?”

Panic is blooming inside her. She does not want to disappoint him. 

“I’ve never been able to... come with a partner before. I’m not sure I am able to.”

Vasco crawls up so his head is resting against hers and cups her cheek. He kisses her. 

“I think you can, but had the unfortunate experience of bedding poor lovers. I will make you feel so good, Elizabet, if you will allow me.” 

“Fuck, yes, please...” 

“As my lady demands.” He kisses her again, sloppy and passionate before crawling down her body and taking his place between her legs. 

He laps at her folds, slipping his tongue inside her before gently licking up towards her pearl. His left hand reaches up to squeeze her breast. Pressure coils slowly in her as he maintains his rhythm and she feels her orgasm building, but doesn’t know what she needs to reach her peak. 

“Vasco, please...” she begs. 

He sticks a finger inside of her, curling it upwards as he wraps his lips around her pearl and sucks. The pleasure builds and her legs are shaking and she comes, grabbing a fistful of Vasco’s hair as she writhes against his mouth, screaming in ecstasy. 

Breathless and sated, her head collapses on the pillow. She looks up at Vasco, now sitting between her legs looking exceptionally pleased with himself. 

“Did that feel good?”

“You couldn’t tell?” She teases. 

“Your screams were a good hint, but I think I’d like to try that again and really take my time with you, just to make sure.”

He slowly reinserts his finger into her cunt, and she moans. He fucks her with his finger slowly, before returning his mouth to her folds. Her orgasm builds quicker this time and as she draws near to her peak, he sucks her clit and adds a second finger inside her, curling upwards. Just as she’s about to come, he slows his ministrations, holding her just at the edge of her pleasure. 

“I want to come, please!” 

“Just a little longer.”

He kisses and licks around her clit, occasionally brushing his tongue against it, enough to bring her right up to the edge but never enough to send her toppling over. It’s maddening and she whimpers, quietly pleading for release. 

“One day I’ll tie you up and lick your perfect cunt until you’re close, so close to your peak. And then I will stop, and I will hold you at the edge of your pleasure for hours until you’re breathlessly begging for release. And then, and only then, will I let you come on my tongue.” 

Elizabet whines and bucks against his mouth. 

“But not tonight. I’ve teased enough for tonight.”

His tongue returns to her clit and feels her orgasm approaching, more intense than before. Vasco places a hand on her stomach, holding her down as he alternates licking and sucking at her centre. She finds her release and comes, clenching on his fingers and screaming his name as wave after wave of bliss engulfs her. 

Once she comes down from her high, she sits up and kisses him thoroughly, tasting herself on him. 

“I want you to fuck me now.” 

Vasco groans in response and grabs her, shifting her so she is straddling his lap. Slowly, he pushes into her, filling her up. He pauses, giving her a chance to adjust to his girth. 

“You feel amazing, Elizabet.”

Elizabet wraps her arms around his neck and starts to move, slowly riding him as he thrusts up into her. He moans quietly into her ear. 

“Do you have one more in you?” 

“I think so.”

Vasco reaches between them and rubs her clit. As the pleasure builds in her once more, his thrusts grow erratic and he whispers in her ear. 

“Fuck, I’m so close, Elizabet. I want you to come on my cock.” 

His words bring her to the edge and she comes, clenching on his cock. As her orgasm subsides, Vasco pulls out of her, strokes himself twice and comes on her stomach, moaning her name. 

They collapse back onto the bed, sated. Vasco rolls to look at her, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Was that satisfactory?” 

Elizabet chuckles. “Vasco, I believe you may have surpassed any and all expectations I had regarding sex.” 

“As did you.” 

He stands up and grabs a cloth and a bowl of water, bringing them over to the bed. He wipes her belly and between her legs before cleaning himself up. 

“Come hold me...”

Vasco slips underneath the covers, and Elizabet follows suit, resting her head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. He runs his fingers through her hair.

Quietly, he begins speaking. 

“Those who fear the waters should stay within the shore’s sight.”

“Those who fear the pain that love procures should shun the flames when love endures.”

“And both shall be safe from founder and blight.”

“That is the next part of the poem. And I have a question: What do you think about it? Are you afraid of sinking?”

Elizabet smiles against his chest. He found the words to tell her he loves her in a poem. Luckily, she knows it, and is able to respond to him in kind. She lifts her head and looks him in the eyes. 

“I know this poem and I think this is the way it ends...” 

“For if water could quench love’s dying embers.”

“Your love that burns and pains and severs, I would douse this fire with the sea of all my tears.”

His smile is so beautiful; so heartfelt, that her eyes well up and tears fall down her cheeks. 

“Then we shall set sail together on this bitter sea, my Tempest.” 

He wipes the tears from her cheeks and she catches his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. 

“I had been trying to come up with the words to tell you how I feel, but there are no words that express the depth of my love for you. I am glad you found the words first.” 

“You didn’t need words. You’ve never needed them. I feel your love in every touch, every hug, every night when you hold me as we fall asleep. I just wish it hadn’t taken me so long to catch on.” 

“We both took our time getting here, didn’t we?” 

“The long journey makes the destination sweeter.” 

“Look at you speaking such beautiful words. Do that a few more times and I’ll give you my job,” Elizabet says teasingly. 

“Don’t you dare!” he slowly runs his fingers up over her side as she squirms and laughs. 

“Fine, fine, I won’t make you do my job,” she laughs, as she grabs his hand, kissing every one of the lines tattooed on his fingers. 

“Would you like to know what they mean?”

Elizabet had asked him once and he deflected; clearly unwilling to talk about it. 

She nods. 

“I have one line for every time the sea has nearly taken me.” 

“You mean... when you’ve almost died?” 

“Yes.”

She takes both of his hands in hers and examines his fingers. Eight lines; every finger except for his thumbs.

“Eight times? You’ve almost died eight times?” 

He nods. “They’re a reminder of the power of the sea, and how fragile life is. I had them tattooed on my fingers so the lesson would always be close at hand.” 

She kisses each of his fingers. 

“The first,” he says, pointing at the index finger on his right hand, “was when I fell overboard. I was just a wee lad at the time; one of the sailors dived in after me but I nearly drowned. Woke up to a sailor pushing on my chest trying to get me to cough up all the water I’d inhaled. I vomited on her.” 

“Next, was an illness that swept through the ship when I was 12. I couldn’t keep food or water down for days, and was near dead by the time it ran its course.”

“Then, I punctured my lung. I told you part of that story. That was a bullet that ricocheted and happened to hit me.”

“You were shot?!”

“Aye. An accident. A sailor was cleaning a gun with a bullet in the chamber and it went off. Unfortunately I had been in the bullet’s path. So I was brought to the medic, gasping like a fish out of water. And we didn’t have any of your fancy healing magic, potions or pain relievers on board so he made me take a swig from a bottle of rum before he pulled out the bullet. I lost consciousness and woke up five days later. Nearly scared the medic to death when I called for him; he was so sure I was dead already.” 

Elizabet runs her fingers over the scar. “I’m surprised the wound didn’t fester.” 

“Oh, it did. Like I said, the medic had been certain I was dead.” 

The panic that is so familiar to her is building, so she takes a deep breath and kisses Vasco in an attempt to ground herself.

“What about the others?”

“The next two lines come from two separate voyages in the span of the same year.”

“We’d hit calm waters and found ourselves stranded for weeks. With a delay of that magnitude, food and water become an issue. To make matters worse, there was no rain.”

“We lost several of my brothers and sisters on both of those voyages. I got lucky.” 

“Then, the sweating sickness outbreak I told you about. Followed shortly after that by the hurricane I sailed through.”

“I remember that story.”

“The last one was the voyage before yours. A young lad fell overboard, much like I did when I was about his age. I dove in to save him. The water in those parts was cold, and hypothermia nearly took us both. But the lad lived, and I didn’t lose a single man on that journey.” 

“You saved the boy’s life.”

“It was my duty. Someone did the same for me when I was his age. The water was... less frigid when I fell in, though.” 

“Vasco...I... I’m not quite sure what to say. I’m sorry you went through all of that.” 

“It’s not always a safe way of life, but I love it all the same.” 

“Thank you for trusting me with those stories.” 

“The story about me getting shot was especially upsetting to you.”

“It’s silly. You’re talking to me and you’re fine and I know you have no lasting damage that’s harming you because I looked you over when I healed you on the voyage, but Vasco,” Elizabet sighs, “the treatment you received was...not the sort of treatment I’d ever offer.”

“It’s lucky I have a healer by my side, then. I’ll never again have someone fishing around my insides with a kitchen blade and their filthy fingers.”

Elizabet pales a little at the thought, grateful Siora is giving her lessons. 

“You must be joking. He didn’t even wash his hands?”

“I believe he was unaware of the importance of that step.”

“Try not to get shot, please? I’ve read the theory but would rather not have to actually pull a bullet out of you.”

“I will endeavour not to.”

“I’m working with Siora but it has been some time since I’ve properly reviewed and practiced Bridge Alliance medical techniques. Perhaps I should start practicing on the beasts we kill out in the bush?” 

“I’d quite enjoy watching Petrus react to you doing so,” Vasco chuckles. 

“He’d bloody hate it.”

Vasco runs his fingers through her hair and Elizabet knows she’s never been happier than she is at this moment, sharing a life and a bed with this man.

Elizabet kisses him tenderly. “I am yours, for as long as we live,” she whispers. 

“I know, my Tempest. And I am yours as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first time writing smut so I got day drunk on the weekend, typed this out on my phone and edited after I sobered up.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, a talk with Siora and the ghost camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW at the very beginning and at the end.

Elizabet woke up the next morning to Vasco kissing her neck and gently squeezing one of her breasts. She turns around to face him. 

"You didn't have enough of me last night?" 

He leans in and kisses her before making his way down her body before hovering over her sex. 

"Please..." 

Spreading her folds with his fingers, he licks a stripe up towards her clit, swirling his tongue around it before sucking gently. 

As her pleasure builds, she grinds her cunt against this face and he moans; the vibrations feel exquisite and she cries out. 

"I'm so close, please, just a little more!"

Vasco slides two fingers inside of her and increases the pressure of his tongue; her muscles are taut and thighs trembling as pleasure coils in her belly. Elizabet reaches her peak, moaning his name as her cunt clenches around his fingers. He works her through her climax, withdrawing when she becomes too sensitive, resting his chin on her stomach and looking lovingly at her.

"I could never tire of you, Tempest."

"Would you make love to me?" 

He positions himself on top of her, lines up his cock with her entrance and fills her. Elizabet pulls him down and kisses him as he begins to move. She matches his thrusts and whispers, her breath brushing his cheek. 

"I've wanted you since the day we met. After we'd talk, I'd rush to my quarters and stick my hand down my breeches and touch myself, wishing it was your fingers instead of mine.”

Vasco moans. "Tell me more." 

"One afternoon, when you were teaching me how to shoot, you had your hand so close to where I wanted you to touch me, and you were grinding your perfect, hard cock against my ass, and I was wearing breeches that were tighter than normal. The seam rubbed against my slit as you moved, and I was so fucking close Vasco. I damn near came in your arms on the deck of your ship."

Vasco's thrusts grow erratic and he buries his head in her neck. 

"I want you to come all over me, Love."

He quickly pulls out of her, strokes himself and comes on her thighs, groaning in pleasure, before collapsing beside her. 

"I had no idea I'd tormented you so during that lesson. I remember those breeches because your cute little arse looked so nice in them. And then you never wore them again."

Elizabet tucks a stray strand of Vasco's hair behind his ear. "As good as it felt, I wasn't quite sure I'd be able to get over the embarassment of climaxing in front of half your crew, Kurt and Constantin."

“Fair point."

The sun is shining brightly through the curtains, so it must be late morning by now.

"We should probably get cleaned up and head downstairs." 

While Elizabet doesn't have anything formal planned for the day, there's always something that comes up after talking with the team. Before heading downstairs, Elizabet sits down in front of the mirror and starts to braid her hair, as Vasco  
watches her. 

"Your hair is so beautiful, and I've always wondered why you don't wear it down when we are here in the city."

"It would look unprofessional in the eyes of nobility. They would assume I could not be bothered to take the time to make myself look presentable prior to speaking with them."

"They're fools. The whole lot of them." 

Elizabet smiles fondly at him. "When you take me to sea and we are away from those ridiculous expectations, I won't bother styling it every day. I haven't felt the wind blow through my hair since I was a child." She finishes braiding her hair and starts to pin it up. 

“Keep the corset, though.”

“Expecting us to attend fancy dinner parties at sea?”

Vasco kisses her neck. 

“No, but unbuttoning your blouse and seeing you wearing it was incredibly alluring.” 

Elizabet stands, turns around and kisses him. “I can keep one on hand just so you can take me out of it.”

They head downstairs. She finds Kurt and Siora in the sitting room. Siora looks extremely pleased and Kurt refuses to meet her eye. 

"You two have had a good morning, yes? And a good night?"

"Siora, did you have to say that with me right here? I've heard enough already," Kurt grumbles. 

Elizabet turns to look at Vasco who has a shit-eating grin on his face. 

"I believe our dear Elizabet and I have worked up a bit of an appetite," Vasco sits, and starts picking at the charcuterie board on the coffee table. Elizabet sits beside him.

"Where's Petrus?" 

"In his room. Praying, I believe." Kurt gives her a look.

Petrus chooses that moment to enter the sitting room.

"Good morning, Child. Vasco." He nods at them before sitting in a chair adjacent to them. 

It's slightly awkward. Siora seems to be bursting at the seams and waiting to get Elizabet alone so she can talk to her; Petrus is very pointedly pretending not to have heard anything and Kurt is being, well, Kurt.

Vasco breaks the silence by pointing at the sausage on the board. "That sausage is fantastic. Elizabet, have you tried it yet? It's very satisfying. Good mouth feel." 

He can't quite keep the smirk off his face and Elizabet tries, genuinely tries, but can't stifle her laughter. And when she looks up and sees Kurt rolling his eyes, Siora looking confused and Petrus burning a hole in the floor with his gaze, she only laughs harder. Tears roll down her face and her stomach muscles are aching by the time her laughter subsides. 

"Oh, grow up Green Blood. And get some soundproofing for your bedroom."

"I don't get it. What was so funny?" Siora asks, staring at Elizabet. 

"I'll tell you later, Siora." 

Surprisingly, after speaking with everyone, there is no pressing business for the day and so Elizabet has another day off. Vasco plans to head to the port to visit with members of his crew, and Petrus has a lunch engagement, so Elizabet invites Siora to join her for a walk in the countryside. 

"Would you care to join us, Kurt?"

Kurt shakes his head. "I expect I would prefer not to be privy to what you girls will be talking about. I've picked up a lead on the training camp Reiner was sent to, and will do some more looking into it today. Do you think we could investigate the camp, Green Blood?"

"We could head there tomorrow, if you'd like."

Kurt looks at her gratefully.

“Thank you," he pauses, seemingly searching for words. "You look happy. I'm happy for you. For  
both of you." 

Elizabet hugs Kurt. 

"But, seriously. Soundproofing."

***

It's a beautiful day, and as they walk, Elizabet gathers plants and other ingredients for potions. They chat politely, about the weather, the names of the plants in Siora's tongue, and best ways to dry the leaves and stems for use in the winter.

Siora's clearly wanting to talk about other matters.

"Siora, you've avoided the topic for the appropriate length of time. You can ask your questions."

"So you talked, yes? You told him you love him?"

"Yes, we talked yesterday evening. And then returned to the apartment, where we...well..."

"Made love." Siora finishes for her.

"Yes, that..."

"I am happy for you. It is always a celebration when _minundhanem_ join together and express their love for one another."

That word again. Siora has never translated it for her. 

"What does _minundhanem_ mean, exactly?" 

Siora looks at her. "Soulmate." 

Elizabet feels emotional suddenly. She's thought of Vasco as her soulmate before, but somehow, the word in Siora's tongue more effectively captures their bond, and the deep, unyielding love she feels for him. It just feels right.

"I like it a lot. I shall have to give Vasco the translation."

They walk in silence for a bit before they come across a fruit tree. Siora grabs two low-hanging pieces and hands one to Elizabet before sitting down. 

"You and your people are so open about love. There's no shame, nothing is hidden. It's refreshing." 

"Why would there ever be shame in being in love?" 

"I don't know," Elizabet sighs, "That's not true. I do know, but it's ridiculous. And sad. Generally someone of my standing would be expected not to marry for love but to better their family’s position. Marriages are arranged by families in order to build alliances."

"You mean, you would be expected to share your life with someone you do not love?" 

"Yes. My uncle had arranged such a marriage between myself and a man much older than I. The man was well known to be cruel. I was 18 years old. I got out of it, but as a consequence, was told never to expect to get married."

"I do not understand why your people would force their young ones to marry someone they do not love when there are other ways to make alliances between clans."

"If only more people saw it that way. I was never supposed to experience love, so what Vasco and I have is very new to me."

"Love is special. You should enjoy every moment." 

Elizabet smiles. "I plan to. Petrus warned me that people will talk; that the niece of Prince d'Orsay getting involved with a Naut captain will be seen as strange, but I find I don't care. Let them talk. I have Vasco."

"It's a sad thing that there are people who would judge you because of the person you love. Your people are very strange sometimes."

"Agreed." 

***

The ghost camp is a horrific place. Her, Kurt and Vasco ask around discreetly, and a young man named Wilhelm tells them all about what occurs there.

"We should sneak back in after dark and look around some more," Elizabet suggests. Kurt nods. 

Kurt buzzes with nervous energy as they stake themselves out in the forest near the camp. Engaging him in conversation is nearly impossible, because he's distracted by his thoughts, and Elizabet has no idea how to help. She turns when she hears the sound of Vasco pulling off his coat, gun holster and sword. 

"A good soldier learns hand-to-hand combat, right, Kurt?" Vasco motions towards him. 

"You can't be serious, boy. I have at least four stone on you."

"Completely. Come over here and try to pin me."

"Please don't hurt each other before we have to sneak into the camp," Elizabet sighs.

"It's just a roll in the leaves, Tempest, your bodyguard won't leave me with any permanent damage, will he?"

"I might, if it'll give me some peace and quiet at night," Kurt says jokingly. 

Kurt shrugs off his armour and sword, and approaches Vasco and attempts to grapple him. Kurt may have a size advantage, but Vasco's lithe build makes him quicker and more dextrous. By the time Kurt manages to successfully pin Vasco to the ground, both men are out of breath. Vasco pats Kurt on the back. 

"Good brawl." 

It works. Kurt stills and the three of them watch as the sun sets, and prepare to re-enter the camp.

The nightmare only grows worse when the three of them discover the torture chamber and a list of recruits that includes Wilhelm's name. Bile rises in Elizabet's throat but she manages to swallow it back down before vomiting. Right now, they have a job to do; her emotions can be dealt with later. 

They save Wilhelm, and Elizabet is able to diffuse the situation before it erupts into violence. The three of them sneak through the camp towards Captain Rolf and arrest him. After placing Wilhelm in charge of the camp, they leave, making their way back to their campsite. 

"When I was young, I was trained in a camp like that. And I was selected for 'additional training'," Kurt says bitterly. 

Elizabet takes Kurt's hand. "That's horrible. I'm so sorry."

They talk some more about Kurt's experiences before he excuses himself to head to bed. Vasco, who had been reading by the fire to give the two of them some privacy, puts his book down and moves towards Elizabet. 

"I need some air; come with me?" she whispers. 

Vasco nods and follows her into the forest, far enough so as to be out of earshot of Kurt. In the pitch black of the forest, with only the stars as light, the emotions she had locked away come free and she sobs, gasping for breath. Vasco rubs her back until her sobbing eases. She clings to him and rests her head on his shoulder. 

"There are no words to properly describe what we saw tonight," she whispers.

"No, there are not," Vasco agrees. 

In the days following, Elizabet notices a subtle change in Kurt. He's more open with his affection; pulling Elizabet into an embrace quite suddenly the next morning. And he's friendlier towards Vasco. 

She doesn't ask what changed; wanting to respect his privacy, given the enormity of the trauma he endured during his training. Whether shutting down the ghost camp allowed Kurt to deal with the ghosts in his past or something else, his spirit is lighter. 

Their journey back to New Sérène is jovial, and Kurt watches as Vasco works with Elizabet on her dodging skills one evening. 

“If you jump out of the way when he lunges for you, you won’t fall on your ass, Green Blood!” 

“Fuck off, Kurt!” Elizabet shouts gamely.

“You’re a dancer, Tempest, why not move like one during combat?” 

That thought had never occurred to her. 

“I can give it a try.” 

Vasco comes at her again and calling on her ballet training, performs a pique turn, successfully dodging him.

“Impressive, if unconventional,” Kurt says. 

“Convention means little when one’s life is on the line. I think this could work for Elizabet with some more practice,” Vasco responds. 

It seems to. Turning to movements so familiar to her as a result of years of practice with various dance instructors feels natural. She understands how quickly she can perform a jeté leap, or pique so she’s not trying to leap out of the way of an incoming attack. 

“Next step is adding magic to it,” Vasco says at the conclusion of their training. 

As Elizabet washes up in a stream near camp she hears Vasco approach. He wraps his arms around her from behind. 

“You move so beautifully. I’d push you up against a tree and take you right now if the camp weren’t so close.” 

Elizabet bites her lip. “I can be quiet...”

“Experience says otherwise,” he pauses, kissing her neck, “and I’d rather not silence you.”

She whines. 

“We’ll be home tomorrow evening and I’ll get to take my time with you.” Vasco slowly strokes the lips of her sex before withdrawing his hand. 

“You are a tease.”

“Mmhmm. And now you will be thinking of how you would like me to touch you all night and all day tomorrow.”

Elizabet turns around in his arms, drops down on her knees and takes Vasco’s hard cock into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head.

Vasco moans softly. Wrapping her hand around the base, she strokes him in time with her movements. He threads his fingers in her hair. 

“Fuck...”

Elizabet takes as much of him as she can and gives him one last suck before withdrawing and standing up.

“You’re not the only one who can tease.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While Elizabet is skilled in the use of magic (and extremely powerful), she struggles with the ‘jump out of the way so you don’t die’ bit. This trait is based on the fact that I didn’t grab lightning dash until close to the endgame, and was annoyed with myself because it was such a game changer in terms of avoiding attacks.
> 
> So...She’ll be casting shields and scaring the shit out of Kurt and Vasco for awhile yet.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team meets Aphra.

Vasco, Kurt and Elizabet are out in the bush searching for information about a group of kidnapped Bridge Alliance scientists. It’s been a long, hot day and Vasco is hoping they either make a breakthrough in their search or return to camp for the evening soon. 

There’s too much land around him. They’re in a bog at the moment, which is technically water, he supposes, but it is more like land trying to be water and failing at both. He hates it. 

It’s making him a little uneasy. He’s been away from the sea for months now and has adjusted - mostly, but there are still days where he aches to feel the rocking beneath his feet. Generally those days happen to coincide with hot days spent wandering through the wilderness. Like today, for instance. 

Something glints out of the corner of his eye, in the tree directly above Elizabet. Before he’s able to react, a knife flies through the air towards Elizabet, who deflects it with a shield spell. 

Vasco draws his pistol. The mystery person in the tree reveals herself and aims a pistol at Elizabet. 

“Wet gunpowder won’t fire” is all Elizabet has to say for the woman to lower the gun and jump out of the tree. She’s Aphra, one of the scientists they’d been sent to look for. 

“I’m Kurt, the Legate’s bodyguard. Do not threaten her again,” Kurt says firmly. 

“Captain Vasco, of the Nauts. Yes, I realize I am far from my ship. Draw a weapon on her again and you will deal with me.” 

“Lucky you, De Sardet; travelling around with two bodyguards.” 

“Vasco is not a bodyguard. Frankly, if you threaten her, you’ve got better odds with me rather than him,” Kurt smirks. 

“We should head to our camp and come up with a plan to rescue your colleagues.” 

It’s mostly a quiet walk back. Vasco moves up beside Elizabet, and is eyeing her closely. 

“Love, she didn’t hit me; I’m fine.” 

Never has anyone understood him the way Elizabet does. It amazes him sometimes how she can look at him and know what concerns him, or what he needs at that moment. 

She reaches out for his hand and he takes it gladly. 

“Bogs are a special kind of unpleasant, aren’t they?”

“I had just been thinking that when we happened upon our missing scientist.”

She lowers her voice, “she’s staring. We’re much more interesting than the landscape around us.”

“It’s not as if there’s much to see here. It’s all water, mud, and green.” 

“Yes, you’re a much better view. I must commend her taste.” 

The sun hangs low in the sky by the time they’re back at the camp. Eager to be off his feet, Vasco volunteers to prepare dinner while Elizabet and Kurt backtrack into the woods in search of fruit trees they’d seen earlier in the day. 

“We won’t be too long; it isn’t far from here.” Elizabet gives him a kiss before turning around to head out of camp. 

“Be careful!” He calls out after her. 

The woman - Aphra - stares at him once more as he cuts chunks of meat and foraged vegetables into pieces and throws them into a pot over their campfire. She looks as if she is trying to figure something out about him, and it’s extremely off-putting. 

He checks his side to make sure his gun is still in its holster. Not that he expects to use it but this woman is a complete stranger to him and you can’t be too careful. 

“How does that happen?” Her voice rings out suddenly. 

He looks at her for a moment before responding. “How does what happen?” 

“You and the Legate. How does it work?” 

“While I’m unwilling to provide you with an education on how sexual relations between a woman and a man work, I can tell you that things occur as expected between us.”

Obviously that’s not what she asked. But he doesn’t feel like tolerating the implied question of ‘what does the noble see in a Naut’ because it’s really none of her fucking business. 

“Are you pleased to be a smart ass?”

“Usually.” 

“Would you like to answer the question properly?” 

“It should be plainly obvious that I do not.” 

“Do you dislike me?”

“I tend to be suspicious of people who throw knives and point guns at my lover.” 

She stops trying to talk to him after that. When Elizabet and Kurt return, she pipes up again. 

“Your boyfriend is real charming, De Sardet.” 

Elizabet just sighs and sits down next to him. 

“Dinner should be ready.”

“Oh good, I’m hungry,” she lowers her voice, “so was it you antagonizing her or the other way around?”

“A little bit of both,” he admits. “She asked how we happened.”

Elizabet smiles. “I can only imagine how you answered.”

“Very well, I assure you.” 

As they eat Aphra tries again, speaking to Elizabet this time. 

“So, how do you and a Naut happen?”

As a diplomat, Elizabet can’t respond as he can, but he also knows she has no tolerance for what is implied by the question. 

“We fell in love with one another and decided we wanted to be together. It’s really quite simple.” 

“I know... But I was just wondering...”

“I love him. And he loves me. We can end this discussion here,” Elizabet says politely but firmly. 

Aphra looks over at Kurt. 

“Don’t even think about questioning me. I don’t ask for details,” he says. 

Elizabet had warned him that people would talk, or stare, or ask questions. Their relationship is unusual. Extremely unusual, in fact. Two years ago if someone had told him he would fall in love with and build a life with a noble he would have laughed. Hard. But one of the things he loves about Elizabet is her refusal to compromise anything about their relationship in an effort to avoid judgement from her peers. He told her in the days after they first declared their love that they could be discreet; perhaps avoid the worst of the court gossip.

But Elizabet refused. “I will never be ashamed of loving you and I will not allow people to shame me for choosing a life with you.” And that was the end of it. She holds his hand in the city, kisses him before they depart from one another, and she introduces him as her partner in conversations. 

Whenever he thinks he could not love her more, she does something lovely and he feels the depth of his love for her grow. 

Once they finish eating and get the dishes dealt with Elizabet sits in front of Vasco with her back to his chest. He wraps his arms around her. Periodically she turns her head and they kiss. 

The conversation is far more stilted than it normally is with the addition of Aphra. None of them know her, so conversation mostly consists of questions about where she grew up and her education. Elizabet talks a little about her upbringing but remains guarded. When Vasco is unable to stifle his yawns any longer, she suggests they head to bed and when she climbs naked into their bedroll and holds him, he marvels at just how lucky he is. 

They find the scientists imprisoned by a nearby clan. Recognizing there’s no way to handle the situation diplomatically, Elizabet pulls out a lock picking kit and opens the cell door in an effort to avoid bloodshed. It’s risky, sneaking a group of scientists out without being seen but they manage it. Somehow. 

When he asks her how a noble learns to pick a lock she smiles mischievously and tells him that she doesn’t, really; that “the cell door was shit and I got damn lucky”. 

Back in Hikmet when they meet with Governor Burhan, he orders Aphra to join Elizabet and provide her with any assistance she needs. As they leave the palace, Aphra taps him on the shoulder. 

“It looks like you and I will get to be friends after all.” 

“Lovely,” he responds dryly. 

“Wait until you meet Petrus, Aphra,” Elizabet says cheerfully. 

“Who is Petrus?”

“A Bishop living in San Matheus. I’m confident you will both be able to put your nation’s differences aside to work together towards our common goals.”

Unless people know Elizabet extremely well they would not have been able to tell she was being sarcastic there. Vasco meets Kurt’s eyes and he grins. 

“Yes, I’m sure we will be the best of friends,” Aphra responds. 

“Five gold pieces says the bishop takes first blood,” Kurt mutters to Vasco. 

“Not a chance. It’ll be Aphra; she’s got an attitude to her,” Vasco responds. 

“We’ve got a bet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll be honest: I’m not a huge fan of Aphra. There’s something she insists on doing in one of her personal quests that’s so contrary to what Elizabet would do and it really didn’t sit well with me. I’ve modified how the events go down considerably when we get to it, but I’ll be exploring their dynamic more as two people working together as professionals, not friends. They’re extremely different people: Elizabet is warm and very affectionate and Aphra struck me as cold and clinical in the few times I brought her out.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet fights in the Coin Arena and deals with the Ordo Luminis.

“How can you defend a people who think praying to some unproven being is a valid healing strategy?”

“Because I am of those people, and your interpretation of our practices is remarkably simplistic. However, I am under the impression that many from your nation still believe bleeding someone is an appropriate treatment for illness.”

“Neither of you are healers; there is no point to this argument!” Elizabet cuts in. 

Aphra and Petrus stare at her blankly before continuing the debate. 

And on and on it’s gone. Elizabet has been in San Matheus with the team for two days and the only peace she’s had from Petrus and Aphra’s bickering has been when she’s been in bed with Vasco. 

She may have suggested they go to bed earlier than usual the other night when Kurt was at the barracks because the sounds of his moans are so much nicer than their arguing. Siora has long since retreated to the garden to avoid whatever it was they were arguing about that night so she didn’t even have to feel bad about subjecting her to the sounds of her and Vasco’s lovemaking. 

“They both enjoy it,” Vasco says, as they cuddled in bed afterwards. “It’s a relatively safe outlet for them. Eventually they may even grow friendly.” 

Elizabet scoffs. “I doubt it, but as long as they don’t kill one another they can do as they will.”

“That reminds me, Kurt owes me five gold.”

“What for?”

“He bet me Petrus would take first blood when they met. However, the moment you introduced them Aphra made that comment about how Petrus only wears heavy armour because folks in Thélème aren’t bright enough to learn to dodge a grenade and that is obvious in how their war is going for Thélème.”

“Which Petrus immediately followed up with a comment on how in the Bridge Alliance they only focus on science because they’re heathens who lack the necessary will to use magic.” 

“Yes, but Aphra got hers in first.” 

“He could have meant it literally, in which case you’ll need to wait until they take things to the garden.” 

“We’ll have our answer by the end of the week, in that case.” 

***

Elizabet would never admit it, but it was kind of thrilling to fight in the arena. She won the fight as Petrus' champion, and he now has what he needs to blackmail the Cardinal. Her arm is bleeding; she was sliced by a sword that she couldn't completely dodge. 

Vasco is fussing over her in the waiting area and glaring daggers at Petrus. 

"We need to keep pressure on it to stop the bleeding," he says, as he holds a strip of cloth tightly over it.

As someone studied in the medical arts, she's well aware of this, but does not mind; his fussing is endearingly sweet and it's nice having someone who cares so much for her well being. 

"Love, I can keep pressure on it. Go to my bag," she gestures towards her pack, which is off to the side,"and grab the bottle of vodka and a clean set of bandages. We need to clean the wound and then I'll heal it."

He nods, and gets the bottle for her as she holds the cloth against her arm. 

"Can you help me with this part? I need you to pour the vodka over it and clean the wound out."

"This will hurt."

"Yes, I expect it will." She grits her teeth, readying herself for it. 

She doesn't cry out, but the cascade of curse words that fly out of her mouth would embarass even the most shameless coin guard. Petrus returns to their side as Vasco is gently dabbing her arm. 

"Quite the assortment of words you're using, my child. It's lucky the company we keep in the arena is...decidedly not noble." 

Elizabet stares at Petrus. "I got this fighting your battle so I think I'm going to swear as much as I fucking want," she says evenly. 

"You have earned that right." 

“You should be able to heal it now, Tempest." 

Elizabet looks over at it; the bleeding has slowed and Vasco has cleaned it thoroughly. Closing her eyes, she concentrates and sends waves of healing energy towards her arm. She feels blood vessels and muscle knitting back together. With another push, she closes the wound, leaving a shiny pink patch of fresh skin. It's still tender to the touch, but she can use her arm normally. 

"Impressive," Petrus murmurs. 

"Can we please get out of here now?" Vasco says, sounding deeply annoyed. 

They leave, returning to the apartment in San Matheus. That evening, Elizabet reviews notes on the ruins she had explored a few weeks ago. It turns out the Congregation had a settlement on the island a few hundred years ago, but ended up  
abandoning it. After speaking to Admiral Cabral about it, she had been asked to look into the Thélème extremists in San Matheus. 

Which, naturally, means working with Petrus. She doesn't mind Petrus; he was always kind to her as a child at court, and he has a refreshing attitude regarding his more extreme countrymen. He's a valuable ally and a good mentor.

Vasco is less impressed with him, however. He mostly holds his tongue, for her sake, she suspects, but he's not nearly as cheerful as he is when Siora or even Kurt are with them. 

And tomorrow they'll be visiting the bishop Petrus thinks is behind all of this nonsense. She's not surprised when Vasco walks into the sitting room with a bottle of wine and two glasses. 

"I thought you might like to unwind after today."

"Thank you." He sits, and pours a glass for each of them. 

"How is your arm?" 

"A little tender if I bump it, but otherwise fine. You took good care of me today." 

"I had to do something. I disliked watching you take that hit and being unable to cover you."

"I won, in the end." Quite spectactularly too; she cast a storm, killing her opponent instantly. 

"That you did." Vasco pauses and looks around before speaking, “I haven’t been able to find anything on what the Coin Guard is up to. I’ve snuck into a few offices while there meeting with Dieter. Whatever it is, they’re hiding it well.”

“It was worth looking into, even if you weren’t able to find anything.”

Vasco sighs. “It’s possible only the highest ranking guards know anything. I wasn’t able to get into one of their offices without risking discovery.” 

“We’ll stay mindful of the potential threat.” 

Elizabet takes another sip from her glass. 

“Can I ask you a question? Completely unrelated to the Coin Guard nonsense.” 

"Always." 

"You've said before that you never expected to ever marry. But did you ever imagine what your wedding would look like?" 

"As a child, I always imagined a huge society wedding. Sometimes I'd be standing next to a lovely woman; other times it was a man. I wore a dress; not one of those huge hoop dresses that are so popular at court, something simple. Mother was always there and Constantin walked me down the aisle."

She takes a deep breath, trying to shake the tears away, realizing that Mother would never meet Vasco. She would have been a bit baffled by her daughter's choice in partner at first, but would have enjoyed his quick wit and intellect. 

"But after everything, I stopped imagining a society wedding. I didn't want a bunch of strangers who didn't care about anything aside from making appearances at a party to watch me commit to the person I love. It hurt too much to really imagine what a wedding I never thought I'd be able to have would look like, but I expect it would be very small. Only our closest friends and family."

"Did you ever imagine marrying?" 

"Naut weddings take place on ships. As a Captain, I can officiate weddings that take place during a voyage." 

"Did you ever officiate one?" 

"Yes, on my first crossing as captain. The two men had been a couple for longer than I've been alive and finally decided they'd been together long enough to make it official. It was nice."

"As for whether I imagined a wedding - not really. I was promoted young, which was a mixed blessing. An honour, to be clear, but it creates a separation between yourself and the other crew members. Even if I had any romantic interest in a  
crew member, I could never act on it."

"They wouldn't be able to consent."

"Aye. It might have been different had I found a partner before being appointed, but I had not. And passengers are off limits; a lesson drilled into my head after my affair with the noble's daughter." 

It all makes sense to her now; why Vasco never tried to sleep with her in the early days of their flirtation. 

"That's why you never invited me into your bed for sex." 

"Yes." 

Elizabet laughs. "My reasons were the same; I did not think it would be appropriate given that my family was employing you."

She pauses and smiles. "I'm glad we did it right, in the end. Even if I did nearly rub myself raw in my quarters." 

"You and me both." 

"It was lonely, being a young captain. It had been close to two years since my last bedding by the time you and I figured it all out."

"About the same for me. I eventually gave up trying to find a bed partner on the continent because prior experience had told me it would be unsatisfying."

Elizabet picks up the bottle of wine and refills both her and Vasco's glasses. 

"A shame you never had a good lay before meeting me."

Elizabet lifts Vasco's arm and curls under it. "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm happy with you." 

"I could see myself marrying you one day, Tempest, if you ever wished to."

"I think I would like that very much. Marrying you, out on the sea as the sun sets." 

*** 

The bishop they meet is a mad man, convinced the Nauts are engaged in black magic or witchcraft and are responsible for the malichor. Worse, the Ordo Luminis are responsible for the kidnapping of two Nauts, according to the Naut captain Elizabet and Vasco speak to. Elizabet notices Petrus poking around the office as they talk. Outside, Petrus shares the results of his investigation.

"My child, there is a secret warehouse not far from here that the Ordo Luminis have been spying on. Sneak in and see what the Nauts are hiding, and you can put an end to the extremists for good."

Elizabet shakes her head. "Absolutely not. I will not give any credence to those ridiculous rumours by breaking into a facility and searching for information I am not entitled to!"

"There will be nothing untoward in that warehouse, I assure you," Vasco says firmly. 

Petrus stands up straighter and crosses his arms. "I believe you, and your..." he clears his throat, "partner believes you, but your people have been kidnapped by extremists who believe otherwise, and it is in their best interest that these rumours be dispelled. Given your partner's position, she has been deemed a trustworthy eyewitness. Sneak her in, show her personally there is nothing to be feared, and end this for good."

"I don't like it," Elizabet says. 

"Me neither but the bishop has a point," Vasco turns to look at Petrus, "Tonight I will sneak Elizabet and _only_ Elizabet in; she will see there is nothing to these absurd rumours and then we can go and figure out where they're keeping my people."

And so Elizabet spends her evening sneaking into a secret Naut warehouse with Vasco. They're able to get in without any trouble, and at first glance there's nothing at all out of the ordinary; just boxes and a note warning about Ordo Luminis spies. Then she recognizes an instrument in the corner. 

"My uncle had one of these at court. It's used to look at the stars; there's certainly nothing magical about it."

"A sextant," he explains, "used to track the stars for navigation." 

"You navigate by the stars?" Elizabet smiles and shakes her head, "That's why you knew so much about constellations and wouldn't answer some of my questions on the voyage."

"Yes."

"What's that thing over there, with the dolphin on it?" 

They wander over. Vasco looks at it. 

"I wouldn't begin to know how this model works but it's used to measure the depth of the ocean. Very useful."

Elizabet walks over to another instrument that looks almost like a thermometer. 

"A barometer, to predict the weather. It helps us avoid storms."

She turns to look at him. "There is nothing magical about anything here; it's all science. And there's nothing at all to do with the malichor here."

"We spread the magic rumour ourselves. It hurts our reputation but protects us from competition. I couldn't begin to tell you why we're immune to the malichor." 

"I won't say a word about anything I've seen here. I'm sorry we had to come in here in the first place." 

"I know. I trust you."

The next afternoon Elizabet takes pleasure in threatening Inquisitor Aloysius into revealing the location of the kidnapped Nauts. A discreet bribe to the Coin Guard prison warden sets them free. 

"Let's go end these Ordo Luminis assholes."

Elizabet enters the building fully prepared for a fight, but Vasco handles it, firing off three quick shots before slitting the throat of the last man still standing. They're dead before Elizabet even has a chance to cast a shield spell. 

Petrus looks at Vasco incredulously. 

"They kidnapped and tortured my people."

"You have excellent aim. That may be the most impressive shooting I have ever seen."

He nods at Petrus in acknowledgement before investigating the room with Elizabet. 

"I believe this will suffice for the Cardinal," Vasco hands Elizabet a note, sounding disgusted. 

"Let's bring this to her attention, then."

***

Elizabet thinks the entire theory sounds even more ridiculous as she explains it to the Cardinal. The Nauts, using black magic to create and spread the malichor? The Cardinal agrees, but presses on what Elizabet found in her investigation. 

"I can assure you, your worship, that I investigated thoroughly and there is absolutely nothing of concern regarding the Nauts."

"Yet you provide no evidence or additional information. What am I supposed to take this on?"

"My word. Have I not proven trustworthy in my handling of previous matters? I was under the impression we shared a positive working relationship."

It's a delicate matter, protecting the Naut secrets and placating Thélème. Leaning on her reputation is a risk. But appealing to the Cardinal's sense of trust works and she nods before ordering the arrest of the members of the Ordo Luminis. 

"Well played, my Child," Petrus says, as they walk back to the apartment. 

"Now that this matter is settled, we should return to New Sérène and speak with Admiral Cabral about the ruins we found."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed how certain events happened. While I was playing I had been pondering reloading when I brought Vasco with me to the Naut warehouse ‘cause it felt so wrong to sneak him in but he provides a ton of insight and asks De Sardet to keep things secret. So I changed things so it’s Petrus that talks Vasco into sneaking Elizabet in.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet learns the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: 
> 
> This chapter features a character learning a difficult truth that occurs in-game and focuses heavily on their reaction to it, which includes a panic attack. Through this, they have the support and love of people around them.
> 
> Also, this is the start of a pretty heavy series of chapters, given all of the events that occur fairly close together.

The Congregation had been visiting Tír Fradí for years after their failed attempt to take over the island hundreds of years ago, which had resulted in the awakening of the island’s magic. Elizabet can’t say she’s terribly surprised that the Congregation was secretly making voyages in the years since. 

“...And you were the product of one of those voyages.”

No, that can not possibly be true. Mother gave birth to her after years of trying for a child. It must be a mistake. 

“No, my mother was Prince d’Orsay’s sister, I apologize Admiral but you must be mistaken.” 

“Your mother was from the island and you were born on one of our ships. I do not know why your family hid this from you. You must have had some suspicions?” 

She did. She had assumed Father must have been a descendant of someone originally from Tír Fradí.

“I am sorry.” 

Elizabet breathes. She is working and her emotions must remain invisible. 

“Thank you, Admiral, for your assistance with this matter. Have a wonderful day.” She nods and leaves the Admiral’s office with her legs shaking. 

Vasco takes her hand and puts his arm around her to keep her from losing her balance. Tears well in her eyes and she’s finding it difficult to breathe. 

No. She cannot lose control now. Not until she’s back at the apartment. 

“How could they lie to me? I don’t understand. Did Constantin know? I must speak to him!”

Why did she start to talk? It won’t keep her calm until they make it home. Foolish, foolish, foolish. They’re outside the admiral’s office. People can see her. 

An arm around her. He’s tall; it must be Petrus. 

“I am sorry, Child. I wish I had the words to comfort you. But you do not need to be ashamed of your ancestry. This island is at the core of all our fates.” 

She sniffles. No. She can’t cry. Not here. 

A shorter body replaces the tall body that had been holding her. Cinnamon. Pine. Gunpowder. Scents she associates with safety. Because she is with him.

She fits so perfectly in his arms. He holds her tightly and whispers softly against her ear. 

“I am so sorry, Tempest. I understand what you’re going through and I know you are feeling confused, angry and lost. I am here, just as you were for me.”

It’s too much. The deep sting of betrayal, her confusion, the anger she feels about whatever her uncle did to her mother and the utter loss of her identity. The shaking becomes too much and her legs give way. She doesn’t fall; instead Vasco holds her and gently brings her to the ground. 

A simple act of kindness. Not even kindness. Basic decency. All of the emotions she was trying to lock away come rushing out and she sobs, loud, desperate sobs and she gasps for air because she cannot breathe through her panic. 

He pulls her tighter against him. One hand on her back, the other on her head, holding her against his chest. 

“Let it out. You are safe here with me.”

She cries and hyperventilates until exhaustion creeps in and she whimpers against him like a child. He rocks her. 

“I’m here.” 

A water skin is offered to her by Petrus. He must have found water somewhere. 

“Some manner of alcohol. I bought it off one of the sailors.” 

Alcohol? Even better. She takes the water skin and drinks. It burns. But burning is good. It washes away the pain of everything else. 

“Where are we?” she asks quietly. She can’t remember where she collapsed. 

“Just outside the admiral’s office.” 

No. Too many people. How many people saw her lose control? Her breath comes in desperate gasps and she starts to try to stand up. 

“Elizabet, take your time. Come back to me.” He gently guides her back into his arms. 

“Breathe with me.” She mimics his breathing until she is able to breathe without hyperventilating. 

“Tell me what you can feel right now.” 

He remembers. The night he was in this state and she helped him get to sleep. 

“Your arms around me. You’re holding me tight. The feel of your coat against my skin.” 

“What can you hear?”

“Gulls are crying as they fly around the port. Sailors. The sound of your breathing. It sounds like a crate just dropped somewhere.” 

“Good. Would you like to try to stand up?”

Elizabet nods. With Vasco on one side of her and Petrus on the other, she tries to stand. But she’s shaky as a newborn foal and collapses back on the ground. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I can’t stand,” she starts to cry again because it’s her fault they’re stuck here and that everyone at the port can see her losing control. 

“Let me carry you home.” 

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself on my account.” 

Vasco scoffs. “I’ve carried far heavier and more awkward loads in my life. You are not difficult to carry and the sooner we get you home, the sooner I can get you into the tub.” 

She nods. Vasco lifts her easily and starts heading towards the port’s exit. 

“What will the other Nauts think of me?” 

“I expect most were too busy focusing on their tasks to notice. The ones that did notice will assume you received news of a loss from the Admiral. Which you did, in a way. You will not be judged.” 

Elizabet tucks her face into his neck and tries to concentrate on keeping her breathing steady as he walks back to the apartment. 

The others assume the worst when Vasco walks in carrying her. Siora jumps up in alarm, Kurt calls out to her with concern and Aphra demands to know what happened. 

“She’s not injured. Petrus, handle the others. I’m going upstairs with Elizabet.” 

He lays her on the bed and she stares blankly at the wall, lacking the energy to focus. She feels him unpin her hair and work the braid out of her hair. 

“Shall I run a bath for you?”

She nods and he gives her a kiss on the forehead before leaving to run the tub. He returns a few minutes later and undresses her with a tenderness she hasn’t experienced in years. Once undressed he lifts her and puts her in the tub. 

It’s the perfect temperature and she smells - lavender? Vasco must have used the bath oils. He kneels beside the tub, still fully clothed, with his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow. 

“Would you like me to help you wash your hair?”

She nods. Her arms and legs are aching; not an uncommon thing after a panic attack of this magnitude. He pours water over her head to wet her hair before massaging her shampoo into her hair.

“You’re good at this.” 

“My hair may not be quite as long as yours, but I do know a thing or two about managing it.”

“I love your hair. It’s long and you’re so handsome. Have I ever told you that?”

“You have, but I’ll not dissuade you from repeating it.” 

He rinses the shampoo out of her hair before pausing. “Which oil do you use for your hair?” He asks somewhat sheepishly. 

“The pink bottle. Argan oil.”

He drizzles some on his hands and runs it through her hair.

“Thank you,” she says softly. 

“It is no trouble. This oil smells nice.” 

“Not just for that. For taking care of me. I’m a mess.” 

His hands still in her hair. “There is no shame in feeling as you do now. You’ve learned something drastic and it will take time for you to process it and recover.”

She sniffles. 

“I can help you wash?”

Elizabet nods and he grabs the bar of soap and a wash cloth and gently washes her. 

“I don’t think you’re getting laid tonight,” she jokes weakly. 

He leans over and kisses her. “Not something I had considered for a single moment.”

Vasco helps her stand up and towels her off. She holds his shoulders to support her weak and shaking legs. 

“Would you like a robe or would you prefer to get in bed without one?” 

“Maybe a robe for now. I imagine the others will want to talk.” 

He lifts her up and sits her down on the bed and walks over to her armoire, pulling out her baby blue silk robe and helping her put it on. 

“The others can wait. You owe none of them an explanation until you are ready.” 

“And I need to talk to Constantin.”

“It doesn’t have to be today. Or even tomorrow. It might be worth heading out of town for a bit to give you some time to process everything before you tell your cousin.”

“Is he even still my cousin if I’m not related to him?” she cries. 

An arm wraps around her. “Of course he is. The two of you love each other. You will always be family. Just as you are my family and Kurt is your family.” 

She wipes her eyes. Vasco hands her a handkerchief and she blows her nose. 

“He looked ill last time I visited. It was three weeks ago now. He was coughing and looked pale. He insisted he was fine but I’m worried.” 

“I’m sure he’s fine, Elizabet. He has a lot on his plate, just as do you.” 

“What would we do if we went out of town?” 

“You had said something about trouble with a logging expedition when you were out with Aphra; we could look into it?” 

Elizabet nods. 

“Could you hold me for a little while?” 

Vasco pulls off his shirt and breeches and slides under the covers with Elizabet, holding her against his chest. 

“I’m so tired.”

“Close your eyes and try to nap for a bit. You’ve had an exhausting day.” 

Her mind is racing and she wants to think, to process, to figure out why her uncle kidnapped her mother and stole her. To figure out the consequences of her uncle taking a seaborn infant from the Nauts. What did her uncle have to pay to obtain a child owed to the Nauts by the circumstances of her birth? How many Congregation children had to be given to the Nauts for her uncle to get custody of her? 

“Elizabet. I can feel your mind turning.”

“It won’t stop.” She chokes back a sob. 

His fingers run through her hair. “Focus on the sound of my heartbeat and my breathing.” 

She forces herself to concentrate on the steady sound of his heartbeat. She counts and when she loses count she starts over. 

Vasco is still holding her when she wakes up. 

“You haven’t moved.” 

“I didn’t want to disturb you. How are you feeling?”

She pauses. Considers. 

“Empty,” she settles on. 

“What do you need?” 

“To hit my uncle repeatedly with my bare hands until he chokes on his own blood.” 

“If I could present that man to you right now I would.” 

Elizabet lifts her head and looks at him. “Do you see me any differently?” 

“Only in that you are hurting. Other than that, no. You are still the same curious, kind, intelligent and beautiful woman I fell in love with.” 

There’s a quiet tap on the door. 

“Would you like me to ask them to leave?”

“Could you see who it is first?” 

Vasco pulls his breeches back on and walks to the door. Elizabet hears Siora. 

“You can come in Siora.” 

Siora walks in, looking a little nervous. 

“Would you like some privacy?”

“Can you stay, Vasco?”

He nods and returns to the bed and leans against the headboard. Elizabet sits up beside him. 

“Would it be too weird to come sit beside me on the bed, Siora?” 

Wordlessly, she joins them in bed. Elizabet takes her hand. They sit in a comfortable silence for some time before Siora speaks up. 

“I understand you may be sad because you were lied to. But do not be sad about who you are. We are a proud people and I am glad to know that you are one of us.”

It’s such a sweet thing for her to say and Elizabet’s eyes well up again. 

“I’m not sad to be one of you. Not at all. It’s all still so new and I’m still figuring out who I am and what this means.” 

“I am here. We all are.” 

Elizabet smiles a little and looks at Siora. “We really look alike, don’t we? I should have known something wasn’t quite right with the story I had been told my whole life.” 

“The two of you look like sisters,” Vasco agrees. 

“I want to learn more about my people.” 

“We should visit clan Vigyígidaw; its _doneigad_ , Dunncas, is extremely wise.”

It takes a minute to realize that Vigyígidaw is the clan she needs to visit regarding the logging issue. 

“That’s auspicious because Vasco suggested we head there to look into a logging issue. It might be a good opportunity to build a relationship with the clan.”

“Will we go after you talk to your cousin?” 

“I was thinking I might wait to talk to Constantin. Process it on my own before visiting him. Would you come with me?”

“I will.” 

Elizabet squeezes Siora’s hand. Siora looks over at Vasco. 

“ _On ol Menawi_ never told me your tattoos aren’t just on your face and arms. They are very interesting to see.” 

Vasco laughs hard. “You should ask Elizabet about the first time she was caught eyeing me by my crew on the voyage here.”

“What happened?” 

“Oh, it was so embarrassing...” 

“Y’know, when Flavia told me, I thought she was full of shit until I talked to you that night and you were flittering around nervously like a hummingbird.”

“Tell me!”

“Vasco was up in the rigging making adjustments and it was hot, so he took off his shirt and I got a lovely view of his tattoos and...musculature.”

“Were you trying to get her attention on purpose?”

“No, it was damned hot that day. I found her beautiful but... had preconceived assumptions about her at that point. After we talked that night, I realized she was not as I expected.” 

“And then you started getting half naked before climbing the ropes on purpose, right, Love?” 

“It is flattering to be eyed by a beautiful woman so of course I did.” 

“This is helping. Thank you. Both of you.” Elizabet turns to give Siora a hug before giving Vasco a hug. 

“Kurt would like to talk to you when you are ready. Aphra too, but we all understand if you would rather wait to talk to her.”

Elizabet and Aphra have a professional relationship but they aren’t close. She has no intention of talking to Aphra when she’s feeling as vulnerable as she is now. 

“Would Kurt be fine if we talked in the morning? I’m not sure I want to talk about it much more today.” 

“He will be. Have you eaten?”

Elizabet shakes her head. 

“I can go get you and Vasco some food from the kitchen. And something to drink.”

“You’re wonderful Siora. Thank you.”

Giving her one last hug, Siora departs and returns shortly with two plates of food and a pitcher of fruit juice. 

She’s not hungry, but she tries to pick at her food a little bit. 

“What time do you think it is?”

Vasco stands up and looks out the window. 

“About an hour before sundown.” 

“I’m still so tired.”

“Once you’re finished eating you should try to get some more sleep.”

“What about you? Will you head downstairs with everyone else?” 

“I’d like to stay here with you, unless you would rather some time alone?” 

“I’d like it if you were here,” she says in a small voice. 

“Then I’ll be right here,” he pats her knee. 

Putting her plate on the side table, she takes off her robe and lies down. Vasco crawls into bed behind her. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too Vasco.” 

Sleep comes fitfully for her that night. For hours she lies awake thinking about what she's learned. 

She's just another one of her uncle's chess pieces. Worse; she had been deemed just another piece on his board before she was even born. What was the purpose of stealing her from her mother, and then from the Nauts? 

Diplomacy, she realizes. She looks like the Natives; her uncle had an infant in front of him that could be raised in his court to build relationships between the Congregation and the inhabitants of Tír Fradí. They're less wary of her than other Congregation subjects. 

Tír Fradí was always in the cards for her. There was always an illusion of choice in her life, but no matter the choices she made, she always would have ended up here. A secret weapon. 

Uncle was always a clever man. Clever and ruthless. He has the confidence, the respect, and the fear to take what he wants. Elizabet was just one more prize. 

Slow, deep breaths, she reminds herself. Vasco is sleeping peacefully behind her, holding her against him, and she does not want to wake him. 

Vasco. "There was a time many of them had to give a child to the Nauts." Her uncle, frequently calling the Nauts "bloody crooks". What did she cost the Congregation? 

She knows. Deep in her gut she knows. Her uncle took her from the Nauts and the other noble families paid the price. Uncle was always forceful when it came time to call in his debts. Ordering a family to give an infant to the Nauts in exchange  
for clearing a debt would be something he would do. 

Her and Vasco are the same age. She's almost certainly the reason he was given to the Nauts. The noble life she lives was meant to be his. 

Light peeks through the curtains. Just after dawn. She pulls away from Vasco, and stands up. 

"Where're going?" he says sleepily. 

"Just for a walk, Love. Go back to sleep." 

"I can come?" 

She leans over and kisses him. "I'm fine on my own. Get some more rest." 

She dresses, and is relieved to hear his breathing return to the steady rhythm that tells her he has fallen back asleep. 

Kurt is up when she gets downstairs. He turns to look at her. 

"How are you doing, Green Blood?" 

She shrugs, not wanting to put into words what she is feeling at the moment.

"Would you care to sit for a bit?"

"I was just about to go for a walk." 

Kurt stands. "I will accompany you." 

She doesn't really want company. Before she can open her mouth to protest, he lifts his hand up. 

"You're hurting which makes you vulnerable. I'll not say a word if you do not wish to speak, but as your bodyguard, I would be remiss in my duties to leave you unaccompanied." 

"You can come.”

True to his word, he does not talk. He walks beside her and looks over at her occasionally, but asks no questions about where they're headed. 

Elizabet brings them to the port. She knocks on the Admiral's door. No answer. It's just after dawn, so she can't be surprised. 

"I need to talk to the admiral. Do you mind waiting here?" 

"We can wait." 

The rocking motion of the waves in the sea is surprisingly soothing to watch and Elizabet focuses on them until the admiral arrives and unlocks her office. 

"De Sardet," she greets, "Had we scheduled a meeting this morning?" 

"No, Admiral. I was hoping to have a few minutes of your time if you were willing to talk."

The admiral nods and invites her in. 

"Would you mind waiting outside Kurt?" He agrees.

She sits at her desk and Elizabet sits across from her. 

"I was wondering if perhaps you could tell me what it would cost a noble to obtain custody of a seaborn child." 

The admiral looks unsurprised by her inquiry. She pauses, considering her words. 

"That information is not something shared to outsiders, of which you are, despite the circumstances of your birth. Indeed, even if you were one of us, you would have to attain the rank of Commander before obtaining the rights to it."

Vasco told her as much before she broke in to get him his file. Still, she hoped to hear differently. 

The Admiral's tone softens. "Don't do this to yourself. You're not to blame for actions taken by your uncle when you were an infant."

Elizabet's lip trembles. 

"This wasn't supposed to be my life," she whispers.

"It is now. You're in a position to make a difference on this island." 

"I'm doing my best," Elizabet stands. "Thank you for your time, Admiral." 

Elizabet walks to the door and prepares to open it when the admiral speaks up. 

"The files we keep on all seagiven Nauts include a copy of the contract signed when they were handed over listing the reason for the surrender. Certain files in the office have gone missing recently, so if you happened to stumble upon one floating around..."

"Thank you, Admiral. Have a good day." 

Kurt is standing near the water when she walks up to him. 

"Find what you were looking for?"

"No. Yes. Maybe?"

"Such eloquence, Green Blood."

"Admiral Cabral encouraged me not to dig further. I haven't decided what to do yet." 

Elizabet starts to walk towards the exit of the port. Kurt follows. 

"Dig further about what?" 

"How much it cost my uncle to take custody of me and which families paid the price." 

"There's one family name you're specifically concerned about, isn't there?" 

Damned Kurt. 

"Yes."

"Drop it. Your uncle made his choices and you're here now and Vasco is happy with who he is, so what does it matter? You had no control over things that happened when you were just a babe."

"That's what the admiral said." 

"She's a smart woman. Listen to her if you won't listen to me. Go home to your man, process what you learned, but don't dig holes that can't be filled back in."

They walk in silence for awhile before Elizabet speaks up again. 

"Every step I've taken was decided for me. I'm nothing more than another piece on the Prince's board to be moved around at his whim."

Kurt laughs bitterly. "Do you think I had a say in how my life has gone? None of us have. We are all thrust into roles based on our circumstances and it's damn near impossible to get out of them. You're luckier than most because you have the  
money to make a different choice with your life."

"I'm sorry. It's selfish of me to complain."

Kurt sighs. "No, it's not. I'm just a bitter old asshole taking it out on you." 

They walk for a bit before Kurt speaks up again.

"You find a cure for the malichor. Constantin is settled as governor. Your duties have been completed; what do you do?" 

"It's not that easy, Uncle expects me to act as a representative of the Congregation on the island, and Constantin will always need me around to support him and -"

"Yes, it is," Kurt interrupts firmly, "Anything you want, what do you do?"

"I want to fix people! I want to further my skills, both magical and scientific and I want to heal wounds, mend broken bones and tend to the ill. And I want to be with Vasco. Wherever that ends up being."

"Then you have your path. When the time is right, step off your current path and follow that one." 

"It won't be easy."

"Nothing worth doing ever is, Green Blood."

They return to the apartment. When the door opens, Vasco appears and looks at her.

"Are you well?"

"The walk helped." She takes her coat off and hangs it up before bending down to remove her boots. When she stands back up Vasco moves over to put his arms around her. 

Despite what the admiral and Kurt told her, the guilt gnaws at her. "I'm so sorry, Vasco," she whispers. 

"What for?" 

"My uncle."

He pulls back and takes her hand. "Sit with me in the garden?" She squeezes his hand in affirmation and they walk to the garden together. 

It's a lovely space, featuring both local flora and flowers imported from the continent. A fountain runs quietly, and there's the firepit she's spent so many evenings sitting by. Vasco sits her down on a bench and she inhales the sweet smell of roses. 

Her mother always kept roses in their library. 

"Years ago, when I was still a lad, the ship I was working on docked at a rural Bridge Alliance port. As Cabin Boy, I was frequently ordered to remain on the ship, cleaning, organizing the captain's notes, whatever. But this time the captain  
told me to run around port. I had been a bit of a shit, so I think he just wanted me to burn off some energy."

"There wasn't anything to see, really. But there was an old woman sitting on the ground, asking for coins. She had heavy scarring around her clouded eyes, twisted legs, and was thin as a rail. I felt sorry for her, so I gave her a coin I had in my  
pocket." 

"She asked me to sit down, so I did, and she told me a story. About how every person is born with a red thread around their finger, connecting them to another person. The thread may tangle over the years, but eventually fate brings you together.  
It was just a proverb from a fishing village on the sea, but one I find myself thinking of frequently. Especially lately. I happen to like the idea of your fate and mine being linked from the moments we were born. That there's this string tying us together that ensured we found each other when the time was right," He laughs a little to himself, "I'm a bit of a romantic, in case you've yet to notice." 

She can't quite stop the tears that roll down her cheeks. Vasco wipes them away with his thumb.

"You're my _minundhanem_ , Vasco."

"What does that mean?"

"The same as your story. Soulmate."

And she leans in and brushes his lips with her own, and he pulls her to him, and kisses her hard, breaking the kiss only to whisper, "my _minundhanem”_ against her lips before kissing her once more.

She may be on a path that was built for her, but she has a red thread to guide her way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story Vasco tells is an adaptation of the “Red Thread of Fate” from Chinese mythology. 
> 
> Vasco being one of the children given to the Nauts in exchange for De Sardet is a theory I’ve had for awhile. I’ll be getting into Vasco’s reaction to this in the next chapter so I won’t say anything more right now.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasco reacts to the revelation about Elizabet’s origins and they meet Dunncas.

Nauts keep meticulous files. He never shows his to Elizabet, and has good reason for it. 

Included in the file was a copy of the contract signed by his parents and the admiral stationed in Sérène formally giving Vasco over to the Nauts. The reason listed? 

‘For goods transported and delivered at the request of His Highness, Prince d’Orsay.’

Elizabet’s uncle. He is the reason he was given to the Nauts. 

The thing about information like this is that it can’t be unlearned. He’d never wanted to know the reason he was handed over. The political climate around the time of his birth meant he had plenty of guesses: To smooth over relations, as part of a treaty, to fulfill a contract... But he never wanted to actually know. It sits like a stone in his stomach, but he will not tell Elizabet. It’s not her fault, and she’s well aware of the sort of man her uncle is. He won’t be the cause of any pain or guilt she feels. So the file sits at the bottom of a drawer in their bedroom, untouched, while he puts the revelation out of his mind. Out of sight, out of mind.

It doesn’t matter, really. With Elizabet’s help and support he’s made peace with his history and he’s proud of who and what he is. And he has a damn good partner by his side. 

And then Elizabet discovers the horrifying truth: She was born on a Naut ship to a Native woman kidnapped by the Congregation. Nauts don’t just let nobles keep seaborn children. In fact, he’s never heard of a seaborn child not kept by the Nauts. 

So, the Nauts must have extracted a heavy toll for Elizabet. Really made an example of the prince. A toll paid for with his life, and the lives of many other Congregation infants. 

It doesn’t click together for him immediately. It’s not until he’s carrying her home that he realizes she is the ‘goods’ mentioned in the contract. 

Two years ago he would have blamed her. It’s shameful, but he was bitter and regretful about the life he could have had. He would have perceived her as the person who stole the life that was meant for him.

Luckily he’s not that person anymore. No, his life hasn’t been easy, but he’s good at what he does and the sense of freedom he feels when he’s out on sea, surrounded by clear blue water is unlike anything else. It all turned out in the end. 

Elizabet is a victim. Stolen from not one, but two lives she was meant for so she can be a part of the selfish machinations of a tyrant. Trained in diplomacy and politics, and skilled to be sure, but a palace will never be home for her. Tír Fradí and the sea are her homes. The peace she feels out in nature on the island only makes sense; one tends to feel most comfortable at home.

With this revelation, he hopes she will grow to understand the previously hidden part of her he was always able to see so clearly.

He cares for her as best he can. There’s little comfort he can provide when her life has been upturned so thoroughly, but he can be there as she processes it. 

She asks him if he sees her differently. He tells her, honestly, that he does not. 

Eventually she will piece it together, and when she does she will feel responsible for his fate. And he hates that. He hates that she has been conditioned to feel responsible for things that could not possibly be her fault as a consequence of her upbringing. She tells him she wants to beat the prince bloody with her own hands. If only he had the ability to grant her request and present her with the man who has caused her such pain. 

He’d be happy to get a punch or two in, himself, to be honest. Mostly for what he’s done to Elizabet and her true mother. 

It happens sooner than he expects. He wakes alone in their bed, vaguely recalling her mentioning going for a walk. She returns home with Kurt, looking run down and sad. He comforts her the way he knows best: by holding her. 

I'm so sorry, Vasco," she whispers. 

"What for?" 

She’s figured it out, and his heart aches even more for her. 

"My uncle."

He pulls back and takes her hand. "Sit with me in the garden?" She squeezes his hand in affirmation and they walk to the garden together. 

Weaving beautiful, eloquent words together has never been his strong suit. There’s a reason he used a poem to tell her he loves hers. Scathing wit is more his style; there are a hundred ways to tell someone they’re an idiot, but to tell your beloved you love them? It has to be just right. 

But she needs beautiful words right now. And he needs to let her know he is aware of what is guilting her, and that it doesn’t pain him the way it pains her. Preferably without talking at length about the whole matter. He may have made peace with it, but he doesn’t especially want to dig at a scar if he doesn’t have to and prodding at her open wound will only hurt her worse.

Borrowing words helped him the last time, so he takes a deep breath and tells her the story of the red thread tying their fates together from the moment of their births. It’s his way of hinting to her that he knows and that he’s made his peace with it. 

It serves its purpose. 

You're my _minundhanem_ , Vasco."

"What does that mean?"

"The same as your story. Soulmate."

He kisses her hard and whispers “my _minundhanem”_ against her lips. And then he kisses her again for good measure. 

Their thread pulled and tugged and tangled over the years as they made their way to one another, but now it hangs loose and comfortable between them; a tie they no longer need to remain connected, but that acts as a signifier of their love and bond. 

***

Meeting Dunncas is a balm to Elizabet’s aching soul in surprising ways. The team discovers several issues the clan needs assistance with, so she works with Dunncas and representatives in New Sérène to smooth over various land complaints. It's  
work she's good at, but it also gives her a chance to talk to Dunncas about the island, and the importance of caring for the land around them. He's kind and patient as she asks endless questions about the customs of his people, and the island itself. He knows her origins, she can tell, but does not make reference to them. 

They're building a positive working relationship when Aphra threatens it. She's learned of a ritual that may hold significance to her research, but as a _renaigse_ , is not welcome to witness it. So she's asked Elizabet to follow the elders and watch the ritual from a distance. 

Elizabet is furious. While she recognizes the importance of Aphra's research, she will not risk alienating a new ally and a respected elder by disrespecting their rituals. So she declines, firmly. 

"I thought you cared about curing the malichor? This ritual may be key to learning more about it." 

She pauses and takes a breath to calm herself before responding. 

"Do not ever accuse me of shirking my duty and the promise I made to my mother before the malichor killed her," her voice is calm but cold as ice, "a duty I am convinced we can accomplish without being disrespectful of the customs of my people."

Aphra raises her hands in surrender; it is unlikely she had heard about her adoptive mother before this. 

The ritual sounds important, so she decides to speak to Dunncas about it. It's not the first time they've spoken of the disease that plagues the continent. 

"My colleague, Aphra, has been made aware of a ritual that may be key to understanding the malichor, which may, in turn, help us find a cure. I understand it is sacred, and not meant to be witnessed. But I request, humbly, information about the ritual be given to my colleague, or the chance to witness it, with the permission of everyone involved. You have my word that what we see or learn will remain private, and will only be used as a resource to further our search for a cure." 

He considers. 

"As _On ol Menawi_ , you are immune to this illness, correct?" 

"Yes. Vasco, as a Naut, seems to be immune as well. It appears only to affect those of the continent." 

"Finding the source of this disease and its cure is very important to you."

"My adoptive mother died of it shortly after I left for Tír Fradí. My last promise to her was that I would find a cure."

"You and Aphra may bear witness to the ritual tonight. It will be good for you to learn more about your heritage."

She bows low to him. "Thank you. You honour me with your willingness to share your wisdom."

Aphra and Elizabet stand to the side in silence as they watch the ritual. Afterwards, Dunncas explains it to them, and invites the two of them to witness the linking ritual set to take place several days later. 

"Thank you, De Sardet," Aphra says as they depart. 

"You are welcome."

It's ultimately a good thing they had been invited to the linking ritual, as a group of Bridge Alliance soldiers attacks the group just before it starts. She kills them; uncaring of whether this will impact her relations with Governor Burhan, because there is no negotiating with a group of people determined to slaughter innocents. 

There is an understanding and mutual respect between Elizabet and Aphra. At least, as much as there can be. Elizabet notices that Aphra seems turned off by her affectionate nature, requiring her to adjust how she communicates with her. It feels stilted and cold to her, and she worries she is not expressing her feelings and opinions well. But it’s Aphra’s preference so she honours it and encourages Aphra to continue her research and to make efforts to build her own working relationship with Dunncas. 

In between assisting Dunncas and Aphra, Elizabet works on her healing skills, both magical and scientific. She pays a few of the hunters to bring her a fresh kill in the morning, which she uses as practice. Usually Vasco comes with her and watches from afar. 

This morning, she’s elbow deep in the chest cavity of an alpha ulg, practicing various surgical techniques. 

She’s managed to grow confident in repairing a severed artery, so that’s something. Granted, under controlled conditions and she’s always been the one to do the severing prior to the repairing.

And there’s a massive difference between a theoretical procedure performed on the corpse of an animal and on one performed on a living, breathing human. When it matters, will she be able to save someone who needs her? 

Vasco turns to look at her. “What’s on your mind? Aside from being up to your elbows in blood and guts.” 

“Whether I would actually be able to save someone when all I’ve ever done is theoretical procedures on beasts that are already dead.” 

“Maybe, or maybe not. It’s impossible to know until it happens. But you’re well read, have considerable practice and you have healing magic. You’ve a better chance at saving someone near death than nearly anyone else.”

Elizabet pulls her arms out of the corpse and motions towards a cloth. Vasco hands it to her and she begins wiping the blood off herself. 

“What if I make something worse?”

“Can’t get much worse than dead.” 

“I’m untested. You have far too much confidence in me.”

“You’re not, Tempest. You put me back together well enough. At this point, your biggest problem is your lack of confidence,” he pauses and smirks at her, “I’d rather have you groping around my insides than a medic with filthy fingers wielding a kitchen blade.” 

“I’d rather not have to put you back together again so please don’t get hurt.” 

“I’m always careful. Aphra was prodding at me before I came out here with you. She wants to know what you’re up to.”

“Did you tell her?” 

“I told her you were engaged in exceedingly complicated blood rituals with the ultimate goal of extending your life indefinitely. She told me to fuck off.” 

“You could have told her; it’s not a secret.” 

“Ah, but this is more fun.” 

“And you wonder why she finds you insufferable.”

“I don’t wonder. You may, but I am well aware she’s immune to my particular charm. And your charm too, as it were.”

Elizabet laughs fondly. 

“I think I’m ready to head home to New Sérène to talk to Constantin.”

It’s been two weeks. Several days have gone by since her last panic attack and even longer since she last cried herself to sleep. She wants to see her cousin so badly it’s starting to ache. 

“We can talk to the group and arrange to head back.”

“I’ve only gone this long without seeing him once before and that was when his father dragged him on a visit to Thélème. Mother had wanted to stay home.” 

Elizabet can’t say “Uncle”. The man who kidnapped her mother and stole her is not family to her. 

“I can be with you, when you tell him, if you think it would help.”

“I’d be glad for your company. Did I tell you he’s very pleased we ‘sorted our nonsense out and got into bed’?” 

“You didn’t. Was his approval of our relationship contingent on me defiling you on a regular basis?” 

“It’s Constantin, so yes. He does find you to be ‘delightful’, apparently.” 

“I’ve never been referred to as ‘delightful’ before. Most nobles stick with ‘asshole’ in my experience. Particularly the ones named Aphra.”

“It’s your smart mouth specifically that he finds delightful.” 

“I’ll be sure to run my mouth more frequently around him then.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A horrific discovery about Constantin and an attempted coup.

Kurt concentrates to keep his expression carefully neutral. When Kurt was tasked with accompanying De Sardet to the island, his superiors on the continent ordered him to pass along any relevant information. And today he’s learned what that was for.

He's ashamed he went along with it for as long as he did. But she's not just his charge, she's a friend. Maybe even a little sister, and he intends to do his duty and protect her tomorrow. And to do so, he must be right in the thick of things. 

"Commander!" 

"Kurt."

"Sir, I request the honour of being the one to take down the Governor and Lady De Sardet, personally. With your permission, I will accompany a team of soldiers to the throne room to interrupt their scheduled meeting."

"You're a cold man, Kurt," Torsten grins with approval, "Looking forward to watching the life leave their spoiled, noble eyes, are you?" 

Torsten clearly knows nothing of Elizabet to call her spoiled.

"They trust me. I have the best chance of catching them off-guard, is all." 

"Agreed. Tell the room what to expect from De Sardet's allies." 

"Petrus wields magic and wears heavy armour. Aphra uses grenades and a rifle. Siora has healing magic and wields a blade. Vasco, sword and pistol." 

"Captain, sir!" A voice rings out from the crowd of guards, "Isn't Vasco the Naut who has been skulking around looking for information?"

Dammit, Vasco, what have you been up to? 

"I had not been made aware he was sneaking around, no."

Torsten growls, "I had asked someone to take care of the Naut weeks ago. Does he know anything that would threaten our success tomorrow?" 

"No, sir,” the same guard responds.

"Kurt, tell us more about the Naut." 

Continuing to maintain a neutral expression, he speaks, "Vasco is a Naut captain who has been ordered to offer De Sardet any assistance she requests. He is...protective of her."

"Protective? In what ways? Have you been replaced as her bodyguard?" Torsten smirks. 

"They are lovers."

Torsten laughs hard, and there is a smattering of chuckles from other guard members in the room. "Your noble charge is sating herself on Naut cock? Does she love him?"

“So the bitch is spoiled and a whore,” one of the lieutenants adds.

"I am unaware, sir," he lies easily. 

"Guards, kill the Naut tomorrow before he has a chance to fuck things up for us."

The meeting ends and Kurt returns to the apartment. His expression remains neutral. To save De Sardet and her cousin, she must not know a thing. 

***

Elizabet is nervous. Today is the day she meets with Constantin and reveals the truth of her origins to him. Will he have known already? How will he react? She heads downstairs wearing a black silk blouse and fitted trousers. Kurt looks at her. 

"Is that what you are wearing to meet Constantin, Green Blood?"

"Yes," she shifts uncomfortably, "Is there something wrong with it? I wanted to dress up a little." 

"You should wear a coat too. That new one you picked up while visiting clan Vigyigidaw would look nice on you today, and would honour your origins."

"I never thought I'd hear Kurt offering you fashion advice, Tempest," Vasco quips.

It's odd for Kurt to make a suggestion regarding her outfit, but it is a good idea. 

"I think I will. Thank you Kurt."

The whole team heads to the palace. Elizabet tries to steel herself, not wanting any of the guards or palace staff to know anything is amiss with her. 

"I would prefer to speak with my cousin privately, so would you all please wait outside the throne room?" She holds Vasco's hand; making it clear that he is exempt from the request. 

Constantin looks unwell, just as he did the last time she visited him. Still, he greets her warmly. 

"Cousin! You couldn't have picked a better time! I've been taken with jitters, like a cat on a mid-day roof."

And she knows. In that moment she knows what's wrong. Still, she forces her tone to remain light. 

"What are you waiting for with such anticipation?"

"I took your advice, you see. I've summoned one of these crows! He has been examining me for nearly an hour."

She looks over at the healer. "What is the verdict?" she asks softly, bracing herself. 

The vial of black blood in their hands confirms it. She runs to him. 

"Constantin!"

He pushes her away. "I am going to die." 

She reaches for him. "No, no, Constantin."

"I am dying! Like your mother! Like the others on the continent. I don't want to die. Not so soon - I don't want to die!"

He falls; Elizabet catches him and holds him tightly. 

"Constantin, I'm here!" She turns to the guards in the room. "Out! Everyone out! That's an order!" she says firmly. She looks over at Vasco, who remains nearby, an expression of muted shock on his face. 

"You won't leave me, will you?"

"I'll find a cure, Constantin, I promise."

"Didn't you promise the same thing to your mother?" Elizabet winces, "You know I'll be dead before you find one," he says bitterly. 

"Don't say that," she whispers, "I've already found promising trails to explore."

"I'm afraid...so afraid," He pauses, trying to pull himself together, "I doubt the reason for your visit was to console me. Tell me, what brings you here?"

"It can wait. It's nothing that can't be dealt with later."

"But please...Please, whatever it is will take my mind elsewhere."

Elizabet takes a deep breath. Vasco steps closer and rests his hand on her shoulder. 

"I was able to get the whole story about the island from the admiral in exchange for a service. The Congregation did attempt to colonize the island. The Nauts discovered it two centuries ago and brought our people here a few decades later.  
But the enterprise to colonize the island failed completely. The princes preferred to hide their defeat and paid the Nauts to keep the secret."

"That they paid to keep it a secret I get, but that my father never said a word about it to me..."

"That's not the most shocking part of the story. The Congregation continued to make expeditions to the island with the help of the Nauts. According to the admiral...my mother came back on one of those voyages. I was born on one of their ships."

"What? But...That means you are not..."

"Your dear cousin? No,” she laughs bitterly. “All the lies we've been fed since our tender childhood, the fable told that I was the spitting image of my dad, the father lost during an expedition....I don't know what to think. Why did they do that to me?"

"Another one of their sly and dark orchestrations. Some vile intrigue. If it is of some comfort, no matter the true story, you will always be my dear cousin. You have always been the only one to care for me. You are my only friend. That's all that matters to me. Keep this discovery between us. No one needs to know. My aunt adopted you after all. Bring in the others and let us speak of different things."

She hugs him tightly. “I love you so much, Constantin.” Elizabet turns and nods at Vasco, who goes to invite the others into the throne room. Kurt is not among them, which Elizabet finds odd.

Aphra is in the middle of providing an update on her research when Kurt enters, followed by a retinue of guards. Wielding rifles. Elizabet's heart sinks. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Vasco draw his pistol and aim it at Kurt. Elizabet moves in front of Constantin and casts a shield over them before readying a spell in her hand.

"Coin Guards! Leave us!" The guards immediately follow Kurt’s order and begin to depart from the throne room.

Constantin angrily demands an explanation. 

"Times change, Highness," Kurt says loudly. 

"We have little time," he says, quieter, so as not to be overheard. 

Vasco's pistol remains aimed at Kurt's head. 

He quickly explains the commander has planned a coup and intends to eliminate the three governors of the island's cities. 

"You have entrusted us with your security. You are completely at our mercy."

"Then why did you send your men away and why are you telling us?" Elizabet says angrily.

"Choose your next words carefully Soldier," Vasco growls. 

"I've known you both for a very long time. Too long. I've come to know you. And respect you. And I've never reneged on a contract. These orders go against all that I am. A cold-hearted mercenary, definitely. But never a traitor. And so now you  
are forewarned."

"Love, it's fine," she gestures at Vasco, who lowers his gun. "Thank you for the warning. Constantin, we must get you and your advisors to safety."

"But...I want to..."

"What? Take part? You can barely stand up! We must take you to the cellar."

"Petrus, Aphra, you must warn your people. Go to the harbour and arrange to have a messenger sent to both Hikmet and San Matheus."

"Kurt, you and I will deal with the lieutenants and the commander. Siora, can you remain with Constantin and his advisors in the cellars and protect them? Vasco, Love, the admiral should be made aware of the situation." 

"I'll not leave you unprotected," Vasco says firmly. 

"I'll be with Kurt; I will not be going after them alone." 

Vasco cups her face and pulls her close. 

"I'll not leave you unprotected," he repeats, "I'll send a note to the admiral with Aphra, but please let me stay by your side." 

Elizabet withdraws and looks him in the eye; his face is a mix of fury, worry and pain. 

"Aphra, please deliver word from Vasco to the admiral." 

He takes her hand and squeezes it before turning to Kurt.

"Give me a reason, one reason to doubt your loyalty to Elizabet and her cousin and I will put a bullet through your skull, Soldier." 

Kurt smiles wryly. "I would expect no less from you. The common rank and file have orders to target you specifically, Captain. Apparently your sneaking around touched a few nerves, so watch yourself out there."

"We all have our tasks; lets go and stop the coup. Constantin, only open the cellar door when you hear from a member of my team." 

Elizabet's nerves are frayed. Between Constantin's diagnosis, the news about her origins, and the coup, it's a struggle to hold herself together. But the city is at stake, so she buries her emotions deep and focuses on the task at hand.

Vasco stays close to her as they fight their way to the lieutenants, and she keeps a shield over  
them. True to Kurt's warning, they do target Vasco specifically, and Elizabet frequently finds herself casting spells aimed at the hoard of guards surrounding him. 

Why they're targeting him when she remains alive is a mystery. 

"I must have offended them," Vasco quips as he runs through a guard he'd been fighting. 

It's inevitable that he takes a hit, in retrospect. They've just dealt with the third lieutenant when she looks over at him and sees a rapidly expanding blood stain on his coat. 

She runs over to him and examines him; he took a nasty blow to the area between his left shoulder and neck.

“I appear to be bleeding,” he says to her lightly. 

"Shit, shit, shit," Elizabet cries out as she puts pressure on the wound to try to staunch the bleeding. 

"I'll be fine, Elizabet. Stings like a fucker, but I can still put a bullet through the commander."

"I need to clean it. And stop the bleeding. And stitch you up, because I don't think I can heal this all the way," she says, sounding panicked. 

"Tempest. Stopping the commander takes priority. Do what you need to stop the bleeding and deal with the rest later.” He speaks calmly, as if talking about the weather instead of the fact that he is bleeding out surrounded by corpses. 

"Kurt, help him to the ground, please; preferably away from the bodies." 

Kurt grabs Vasco and helps him to the ground a distance from where their fight took place, keeping pressure on the wound as he does so. 

Elizabet pulls the bottle of alcohol she keeps in her sidebag, and pours some on her hands; a quick attempt to sanitize them. She pours more onto a clean cloth from her bag. 

"You know how this works," she says grimly. 

"It'll hurt, and not in an arousing way?" 

Kurt rolls his eyes. "The man gets stabbed and he still makes jokes." 

"I'm sorry. I'll go as quickly as I can." Elizabet begins cleaning his wound, wiping away the accumulated blood. As she works, she casts a healing spell, focusing on closing the veins and artery in the area. The blade hit his collarbone, and there's damage to the muscle and nerves, but that can wait until later.

Vasco is near silent through the ordeal, occasionally letting out a quiet hiss of pain, but otherwise remaining still, allowing her to work quickly. She bandages the wound, and secures his arm against his chest with a makeshift sling made from a shirt Kurt brings her.

"I've stopped the bleeding, but you can't move your arm until I've dealt with the rest of it." She hands him a healing potion. "Take this." 

He sighs, but complies, swallowing it down with a grimace. 

Elizabet turns to Kurt. "Let's go get this commander. I owe him a few bolts of lightning for what his lieutenant did to my man."

"My lady seeks revenge for my injury on the battlefield? I am honoured." He stands up, only slightly unsteady on his feet. 

“Stay back when we fight the commander, Vasco. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” 

“They won’t get another chance to hit me.”

It's a short chase before they catch up to the commander. He's an impressive combatant, and Elizabet just barely dodges his frequent strikes, and casts a storm to finish him off.

He lies on the ground, armour singed by the lightning. The smell of burning flesh makes her eyes water and his breathing is laboured. Still, he reaches once more for his sword with shaking hands. So Elizabet pulls out her pistol and shoots him in the kneecap and he cries out in pain.

There's nothing honourable about shooting a man in the knee who is already down on the ground, but she's not feeling particularly charitable towards the man responsible for ordering the deaths of her, Constantin and Vasco, not to mention the other governors. 

The sword finally drops. 

"I surrender," he grumbles to Kurt.

"Go deal with him," he gestures at Vasco, who is standing well away from the battle, looking worn, "I will get the traitor and his lieutenants locked away, inform your cousin and his advisors and meet with the loyalists in the guard."

Elizabet runs over to Vasco and wraps his right arm over her shoulder and walks with him back to the apartment. 

"You've got a live subject to practice on now," he says cheerfully. 

Elizabet stops and glares at him. 

"Didn't I specifically ask you not to get stabbed?" she retorts. 

He laughs weakly. "Aye, you did. But you didn't think to ask the Coin Guard assholes not to stab me." 

"My mistake. I'll send out a missive immediately to our allies requesting they please refrain from stabbing the Legate's partner."

They arrive at the apartment, and Elizabet fumbles to grab the key out of her pocket without shifting Vasco too much. 

"Can you make it up the stairs or should I lay you down on the sitting room couch?" 

"I'll manage the stairs." 

She helps him up the stairs and sits him on the bed, before leaving to fetch sheets from the closet. She puts them down on the bed. 

"To keep us from getting too much blood on the bed." He shuffles over and lies down. Elizabet helps him out of his coat and, deciding the shirt is beyond saving, cuts him out of it. Her efforts to stem the bleeding were mostly successful; there's some blood dotting the bandage but not much. He winces as she unravels the bandage. 

"I'll focus on the damage to your collarbone, muscles and nerves. I think I can repair the worst of it before stitching it up. How is your pain?"

"Unpleasant, now that I'm away from the fighting and have the time to focus on it."

“Give me a moment.” Elizabet stands up and walks downstairs and grabs a potion from the cabinet before returning to the bedroom. 

"Take this. It's the same thing I gave you during the voyage." 

Vasco tosses it back. "I'm in good hands with you. Leave a scar, will you? It'll give me something to show off to my crew."

Elizabet chuckles nervously. "You'll have a scar, there's no doubt about that. Try to relax." 

“I’m more relaxed than you are at the moment, Tempest.”

She places her hands on him, and casts her spell, feeling the damaged tissue repair itself under her fingers. It's far more delicate work than previous injuries she's healed. She pauses to take a magic potion. 

"You're doing well."

Thanks to Siora's instruction and the practice she's had in the field on herself and the rest of the team these past few months, she's faster and the process is less draining for her. It still takes several hours of careful work, during which Vasco occasionally runs his fingers along her arm, seemingly to reassure her.

When she's confident she's done repairing all of the internal damage, she stops and prepares to stitch the wound. 

"How are you feeling, Love?" 

He looks up to her and grins, looking slightly punch drunk. "Like it hurts but I don't care anymore."

Elizabet threads the needle. Taking a deep breath, she starts stitching him up. 

"It's kind of sexy, y'know," he slurs, "my min - minun, shit,"

 _"Minundhanem,"_ she finishes for him. 

"That - defending me, shooting the commander in the knee and carrying me home to patch me up. It's like you're protecting me."

"Of course I'm protecting you. You have my back; I have yours." 

"You’ve no idea how much of a turn on it is. Let me thank you properly once you're finished." 

"That would be ill-advised for a number of reasons tonight."

"Morning?" 

"We'll see, Love."

He falls asleep before she finishes stitching him up, which doesn't surprise her. She bandages the wound and puts his arm in a sling before checking his breathing. Deep and even; no different from any other night. Good. Concentrating, she casts a spell Siora had described to her to increase blood production; meant for when a patient has lost a great deal of blood. She can’t tell if it worked or not; under the light of the lantern hanging above them he looks like he may be slightly less pale but it won’t be possible to know for sure until she looks him over in the morning light.

She pours herself a glass of water from the pitcher she keeps in their bedroom. It won't kill him, and while she was slow and, frankly, petrified, her stitches were small and neat. With daily healing he will be back in fighting shape in a week or two. But the weight of the day hits her: Constantin is dying, and the Coin Guard very nearly successfully overthrew the governors of the cities on the island. And on top of it all, she's still processing the fact that her uncle kidnapped her mother, and then her, and lied about it for her entire life. It occurs to her that, while Kurt was loyal in the end, she needs to talk to him about what exactly he knew, and why he didn't give her or the rest of the team any warning. 

So it’s inevitable when her legs give out and she falls to the ground against the wall across from the bed. Careful to remain as silent as possible, she weeps, feeling terribly alone and ill prepared for everything ahead of her. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet struggles in the aftermath of the coup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a note, Elizabet is really struggling with her anxiety for the majority of this chapter, and for a decent portion of it, she is working through it on her own. If this is triggering for you, you may wish to skip this chapter.

Her tears calm but her mind still races. She sits on the floor, hugging her knees and thinks. 

How should she approach Kurt to talk about what happened? Should she be confrontational? Concerned? Angry he didn’t tell them beforehand? Does this merit a pay increase? How does one say, “I wish you’d given me at least some warning but thanks for not killing me so here’s more money”? 

Probably just throw him a bag of gold and let that be the end of it. 

And Constantin. Poor Constantin. She must talk to Aphra; see what leads they should be prioritizing. What helped Mother most? Should her and Vasco move to the palace to be closer so she can help more? 

Vasco. She knows he will be fine, but her stomach twists as she runs the ‘what ifs’ through her head. What if it had been worse? What if she wasn’t there? Did she miss something? Even minor wounds can become fatal if they fester and it goes into the blood. Did she do a good enough job cleaning it in the field? Bile rushes up from her stomach and she just barely makes it to the chamber pot before vomiting. 

Peppermint leaves are kept in the drawer of her vanity. She crawls over and pulls a few dried leaves out and chews them. She stills and listens. Vasco still snores. Good; she hasn’t woken him up with her panic. 

His reaction to it all was a bit mystifying. He was so calm when he realized and if she really thinks about it, almost relieved in a way.

Hell, he basically said as much. As she walked him to the apartment, he said, “you’ve got a live subject to practice on” and laughed when she glared at him. A lifetime working on ships has made him eerily calm regarding injury. Sailing is a dangerous life and he’s no stranger to injury or brushes with death. The tattoos on his fingers are proof of that. That’s not to say he’s careless; he’s extremely careful, but when things go wrong in combat, he’s always just... let it run off his back. 

Elizabet wishes she could be like that. Instead she’s sitting on the floor chewing leaves to clear the stench of vomit on her breath, despairing over her cousin and worrying about how her partner could have died if he’d been hit somewhere else or the blade had gone deeper. 

How could she ever be good enough to fix everything? The tears fall and she is unable to suppress a sob. 

“Tempest?” 

He’s calling for her. 

She tries so hard to hide that she’s crying. “I’m down here Vasco. Do you need anything?” 

Why can’t she be stronger? 

“Why aren’t you in bed?” 

“I can’t sleep and I was afraid I would hurt you if I tossed and turned.” 

‘I didn’t want to worry you’ goes unsaid. 

“Come here and lay down beside me.”

Elizabet stands up, unsteady from her trembling knees and slides into bed on his right side, remaining careful not to jostle him. She keeps several inches between them.

“You can touch me, I won’t break.” 

She reaches out and puts her hand on his chest. Her hand is cold and clammy, but he does not flinch away from her. 

“You’re struggling.” A statement, not a question.

“Yes,” her voice cracks. More tears fall. 

How much can one person cry in a night? There are several nights in Elizabet’s life that stand out to her: the night she lost her virginity, the night after her uncle beat her, countless nights after her mother became ill, and she’s never cried as much as she has tonight. Her head aches behind her eyes and the skin under her eyes feels raw.

“Have you talked to any of the others? Siora, perhaps?” 

“I didn’t want to leave you alone in case you needed me.” 

“Oh Elizabet... You didn’t need to tend to me alone.” 

But she couldn’t leave him. What if he woke in pain? Or felt weak from the blood loss? Or his breathing slowed too much? 

She sniffles. 

“I can’t shut my mind off. But I’m so fucking tired. I need to watch you in case something happens.” 

“What time is it?”

Elizabet moves to the window and pulls the curtain back. “Three in the morning?” Her head is spinning and her heart is palpitating. She stood up too quickly. 

“You keep those sleeping potions on hand?”

“I do. Why?”

“You should take one so you can get some rest.”

“But what if you need something? What if something happens? You shouldn’t be alone!”

He speaks calmly, in the tone he uses when he’s trying to reassure her. “I can holler for Siora. Or Petrus. Or...Aphra. The pain relieving potion you gave me has mostly worn off by now, so I am also capable of walking on my own.”

“Are you in pain? I can go get you something to make you more comfortable -“

“I am fine, Tempest. It’s nothing I can’t manage.”

“But....”

“Elizabet,” he interrupts gently, “your mental health is just as important as my physical well being. You took care of me last night. Let me care for you now.”

She stifles another sob. 

“Will you be able to go get a sleeping potion or should I go?”

“I can go,” she says in a small voice as she stands up. Slower this time, to avoid another dizzy spell. Her heart is still palpitating. She walks downstairs, grabs one from the cabinet and returns to their bedroom. 

“Do you need anything?”

“Perhaps a glass of water. Have you had something to drink recently?” 

“A few hours ago.” 

“Pour one for yourself too so you don’t wake up with a headache.” 

She nods, grateful to him for taking control of things. With everything going on, it is a relief not to feel responsible for at least a few decisions, no matter how small. When she returns with two glasses of water he motions her to get into bed beside him.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. Come here and let me hold you.” 

She gets into bed beside him, unstoppers the potion and takes it. He wraps his right arm around her shoulders and pulls her close to him. 

“I’ll be here when you wake up, Tempest.” 

***

Sunlight is shining through the curtains when Vasco wakes up again. He turns to look at Elizabet, nestled against his right side. Peaceful. Gingerly, so as not to risk waking her up, he lifts his arm out from under her, and balls his fist in an attempt to rid himself of the numbness that is a result of Elizabet sleeping on it. 

His left shoulder throbs unpleasantly. Pain and injury are givens for Nauts so whenever something does happen and he’s awake and alert enough to feel it, he’s grateful because it means whatever happened is unlikely to be what sends him to the afterlife.

So he can grit his teeth and live with his shoulder for a few days. Knowing Elizabet as he does, she will begin fussing over it the moment she wakes up, and he’ll be fully healed and ready to fight inside of a week. 

And how many people can shove their shirt collar aside and say, “I got this scar stopping a coup!”? 

A knock on the door. Before he can stand up and shoo whoever it is away, the door opens and Aphra enters the room. 

“I see you’ve not been taught the proper etiquette is to knock and then wait,” he says coolly. 

She ignores his tone and looks over at the array of empty potion bottles beside the bed. 

“I came to check on De Sardet. In all of the commotion nobody thought to make sure she was all right.” 

Thoughtful of her, even if her execution was flawed and he’s stuck talking to her while sitting in bed half naked as he’s trying to ensure Elizabet doesn’t wake up.

“I have it well in hand, thank you. If you’ll excuse us...” 

Aphra lifts one of the bottles, reads the label written in Elizabet’s flowing script and whistles appreciatively. 

“She gave you the good stuff for whatever you did to yourself yesterday. These aren’t cheap at the alchemist. Must be nice to have a girlfriend with money.”

“Raw ingredients are significantly cheaper.”

“And she has an alchemist on hand willing to brew these for her? This particular one is well beyond my expertise and she’s never asked me to brew anything, anyway.” 

Vasco looks over to Elizabet, who is still snoring softly. Lowering his voice, he responds, “She’s no need for an alchemist when she is one herself.” 

Aphra scoffs. “Your bullshitting schtick has really gotten old. To make something like this you’d need to train under a doctor.” 

“Or have a natural talent for healing, books to consult and plenty of practice.” 

“She can heal, I’ll give you that one. Say you aren’t lying to me. Why hasn’t she ever mentioned it?” Aphra looks hurt.

“Probably because you’ve never bothered to ask.”

He sighs and motions to a chair on his side of the bed. The one Elizabet sat in last night as she tended to him. 

“When I was training my fellow students were competition. I never bothered to get to know them.” 

“She’s not your competition and she accepted your help specifically because of your skills, education and connections. Think about it and you’ll realize she did try to get to know you.”

Vasco thinks back to invitations to share a drink in the garden, and Elizabet approaching Aphra about a medical theory she’d read about, only to be impatiently shooed away. 

It was fine, she told him. The two of them had a professional relationship and she does not need to be friends with everyone on the team. But even Petrus has become close to her; taking on an almost fatherly role in her life. 

But Elizabet, gentle Elizabet who worries about every word she says for fear of offending someone she cares about, was saddened by it. She accepted it as Aphra’s preference, but he could see her mind turning and knew she was wondering what she did or said wrong. 

Because growing up with her tyrant of an uncle taught her that it must always be her fault. 

“Yes, she did,” Aphra says finally. “Can I be helpful somehow?” 

Vasco considers for a moment. “She will want to replenish the potions she keeps on hand. You know what she would need to brew all of those, yes?”

Aphra nods. 

“How much will it cost?” 

“15 gold; 20 if the merchant overcharges.” 

“Hand me her side bag,” he points to her bag, which she had dropped on the floor in the chaos of last night. 

Aphra hands it to him and he opens it, taking out her coin purse, and counts out 20 gold pieces. 

“She keeps her raw ingredients in the cabinet downstairs. The one in the dining room with the glass windows.” 

Aphra smirks. “Just like that, you go through her coin purse?” 

“To have someone complete a task she would otherwise have to do herself. She does trust me.” 

“Nobody has ever trusted me like that,” Aphra says, mostly to herself, “I’ll head out now and bring back her change.” 

“Thank you.” 

Aphra leaves and closes the door and Vasco finds he is grateful for the quiet again. Elizabet is still sleeping, aided no doubt by the sleeping potion she took in the middle of the night. 

She pushed herself harder than he’d ever seen her push yesterday. Both physically and mentally. It was no surprise it had the impact it did once she was able to sit and catch her breath. 

He should have insisted she fetch Siora to keep her company before taking that potion and rendering himself entirely useless. Everything after getting back to the apartment to waking up in bed alone is a blur to him. 

In the months to come, there is little he will be able to do to help her with her cousin. All he knows about alchemy is what she taught him, as a Naut he knows little about the malichor, and he can’t cast a healing spell. It’s all going to be on her. 

He needs to find creative ways to ease her burden. To be the partner she needs him to be as she searches for a cure that may not exist and keep all of the different groups on the island from killing one another.

Without thinking he shifts and feels a shooting pain in his shoulder. 

“Fuck!” he curses, just a little too loudly. 

Elizabet’s eyes flutter open. “Fuck,” he mutters again, quieter.

As a healer, she is uncannily sensitive to discomfort. Of course she could sleep through his and Aphra’s conversation but the moment he moves carelessly, she wakes right up. 

“What happened, Love?” 

He feels the telltale tingle of her magic around his shoulder, investigating for damage. 

“I’m sorry for waking you. I shifted and hadn’t properly accounted for my shoulder.”

She shoots up immediately and is casting a healing spell before he can stop her. The pain eases. 

“Tempest, I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

“A little better now that I’ve slept.”

“Aphra offered her assistance so I sent her to pick up the ingredients you’ll need to replenish the potions used last night.”

Elizabet looks surprised. “That was kind of her. I’ll be sure to thank her when she returns.” 

“She was unaware of your skill in alchemy. Told me to stop ‘bullshitting’ her.” 

“To be fair, you do it a lot to her.”

“True.”

“I guess it just never came up. Her and I don’t chat about things outside of work matters.” 

“I told her as much.”

“I need to talk to Kurt today. And visit Constantin.” 

“Would you like to talk about it?”

Elizabet’s eyes well up and she nods. “I don’t know what to say to Kurt.” 

Vasco treads carefully. The trust between them that had been building has been shattered by this incident. Yes, Kurt did the right thing in the end but he kept Elizabet and her cousin in the dark until the very last second. A decision that could have easily killed them all. He’s furious, and his desire not to make things more difficult for Elizabet is the only reason he didn’t go downstairs, find Kurt and have words with him while she was still asleep. 

He still hasn’t ruled it out entirely, to be honest. It just needs to wait until Elizabet is elsewhere so she isn’t left feeling as if she needs to intervene.

“You have questions for him. Hearing his side of the story would be a good place to start,” he settles on. 

“I want to know why we had no prior warning. How long he knew this was in the works. When, precisely, he decided not to betray Constantin and I.”

“All good questions to ask.” 

“Kurt said there were orders to target you too. You were injured because of those traitors,” her voice breaks. 

“Some lieutenant got a lucky hit in after I’d spent hours fighting off their guards. I’ll have a blade back in my hand by this time next week and they’ll be hanged as traitors before then.”

“As for why they were targeting me... I guess I wasn’t being as discreet as I’d hoped when making inquiries at the barracks,” he says ruefully. 

“You could have been killed. Had the blade gone a little deeper and done even more damage to your subclavian artery...” she speaks rapidly, tripping over her words. 

Carefully, he shifts and cups her face before leaning forward to kiss her. “I’m still here,” he whispers against her lips before kissing her again. And again. He can’t ease her anxiety, not after everything that happened yesterday, but if he kisses her enough, maybe he can take her mind off of it for just a little while. 

She breaks free of him and looks over him. The look of a healer and not a lover. 

“Are you dizzy at all? You lost a lot of blood.”

“I don’t think so but I’ve yet to stand.” 

Her face brightens slightly. “That means it worked then! Last night, I tried to speed the production of the blood you lost to aid your recovery but I wasn’t sure if worked. But I think it did!” She looks pleased with herself. 

The pride she has in her success at this moment fills him with joy and he finds he would almost accept another stabbing just to see her look this proud of herself again. 

“You’re a talented healer. I told you I was in good hands last night.” 

“I hope I can help Constantin. I had a lot of time to think and I’ll need to talk to Aphra about what leads we should prioritize. And I was trying to remember what I did that helped Mother. When I go there today I’ll look him over and see if there’s anything I can do.” 

She’s speaking about her skills with a conviction and confidence he’s never heard in her before. 

There’s a knock at the door. Elizabet invites them in. It’s Aphra. 

“Morning De Sardet. Your boyfriend here had me go out to replenish your alchemy stores and I just wanted to drop off your change.” She places it on the table beside Elizabet and turns to leave. 

“Thank you. Before you leave...” Aphra stops and turns around, “I’ll need your help with my cousin. Finding a cure is now our top priority. Can we review our leads and determine how we should be investigating them?” 

“We can meet later today or this evening if you’d like? I’ll review my notes prior to our meeting.” 

“That would be nice. Tonight? We can set up in the sitting room. What do you drink?” 

“Drink?” 

“Red wine... Rum? Vasco and I favour whiskey but I have a variety here.” 

“Gin. Only if you have it.” 

“I do. I figure we could use a drink or two to unwind as we work.” 

“That’s very...nice of you. Until then.” Aphra departs. 

Where others would have given up long ago, Elizabet does not. She’s thoughtful and persistent, but never aggressively. 

“Would you come by the sitting room to join us a bit later in the night once we’ve stopped working?”

“I can. Are we to be getting drunk with Aphra tonight?” 

“I think we are.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever had gin,” Vasco tells her. 

As someone who preferred to work his way up the ranks at a young age, he never spent enough time in taverns to try everything on offer. Once he discovered he was fond of whiskey and the occasional ale, he stuck to that. 

“I’m sorry in advance. It’s terrible stuff.”

“You sure know how to sell a man on an evening, Tempest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet’s experiences with anxiety are based on my own. For 13 years I thought I had an undiagnosed heart condition because my heart would frequently palpitate for hours at a time. And since at the time ‘anxious’ was kind of my baseline, I didn’t connect the two. It wasn’t until I went on medication for depression a few years ago that also ultimately helped my anxiety that the palpitations finally stopped.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation and drinks with Aphra.

Elizabet knocks on Kurt’s bedroom door nervously. She’s prepared a tray of snacks; she hasn’t eaten yet and she hopes it’ll feel less like an interrogation if they’re eating. He opens the door. 

“I thought we should talk. Is now a good time?” 

Saying nothing, he gestures her inside and closes the door behind her. Elizabet puts the tray of food on the side table next to his bed. 

“I haven’t eaten and wasn’t sure if you’d had a chance to,” she explains. 

“How is he?”

“Sore but he will be fine. I was able to fix the worst of the damage and stitch him up. He’s lucky the blade didn’t go deeper. I’ve told him to take it slow and stick to the apartment for today. It would have been far worse had I not been there.” 

“I should pass along my apologies to him.” 

Elizabet hesitates. While he didn’t say as much, it’s plainly obvious that Vasco’s angry with Kurt. 

“It might be best to give him a few days.” 

Elizabet spreads some jam on a scone and takes a bite. 

“How long did you know?” It’s hard to keep the accusatory tone out of her voice. 

“When I saw the rifles I knew something was off but not what was being planned.”

“And when, specifically, did you decide not to participate in whatever was being planned?”

“There was no single moment. Like I said, I realized that I’d known you both too long and had too much respect for you. I suppose after we infiltrated the ghost camp.” 

“And what did you do after this?”

“Listened, gathered as much information as possible. The day before yesterday I volunteered to be the one to handle you and Constantin so I would be able to give you the warning I did.”

Elizabet pours herself a glass of water and drinks. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“How do you think that would have gone? You have no evidence, your lover, for all of his sneaking around, couldn’t find anything and nearly got himself killed, and if there was any hint you knew what was coming, the plan would have changed, and I would have been dealt with.”

“You did not trust that I would be able to act with discretion?” She snaps.

“The same discretion Vasco apparently showed?”

“He was not acting on my orders.”

“But you were aware he was poking his nose where it didn’t belong?”

“I was,” she admits. 

“And made no effort to stop him.”

“Because I trust him! And even you can admit those rifles were concerning. He was right about them, in the end.”

“You trust him to make a judgement call, yet you’re angry with me for doing the same.”

Elizabet sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. She speaks slowly and clearly. “There is a mountain of difference between snooping in offices and not telling your charges there’s a plan to slaughter them in a bloody coup.”

He looks ashamed now.

Her eyes are burning and she digs her nails into her palms to drive the tears away. She is working; emotions can be dealt with later. 

“There were ten guards with you when you came into the throne room. Say you were held up, or ordered elsewhere. What would we have done then?” 

“I don’t know.”

“We’re all excellent combatants but we could not have taken ten guards with high powered rifles and I think you are aware of that. That was a firing squad. An execution.”

“You always do this, Green Blood. You focus on what could have happened and not what did happen! You’re alive, your cousin is alive, the Coup was dealt with and a new commander is about to be appointed. It all worked out.” 

“Oh, yes, it’s completely unreasonable to consider how things could have gone worse when the best case scenario had us fighting your people for hours across the city, our allies racing to send messages to San Matheus and Hikmet and my partner getting stabbed by one of your lieutenants.”

Kurt opens his mouth to speak but Elizabet stops him. 

“I’m angry. I do not wish us to speak and say something either of us may regret. I am grateful for your loyalty and will make the appropriate arrangements to increase your wages accordingly. It’s your judgement in this specific situation that is in question.”

“Thank you,” he responds, unable to meet her eye. 

She softens. “I’m going to go visit Constantin today. Try to give Vasco some space if you see him.” She moves towards him and gives him a kiss on the cheek before leaving his room. 

She finds Vasco in the sitting room after she leaves Kurt’s quarters. He’s wearing breeches, but no shirt and his arm remains in the sling. 

“How was your talk?”

Elizabet sits beside him. “He knows I’m angry about his judgement but grateful for his loyalty.”

“Had he known about the plot for long?”

“Long enough.”

Vasco nods and doesn’t pry. 

“I was just about to go see Constantin. What is your plan for the day?”

“Not much, given that you’ve grounded me,” he winks at her, “I’ve been teaching Siora how to play chess. I might see if she’s interested in a game.” 

“Don’t overdo it. I’ll be back in a few hours; love you.” Elizabet kisses him and stands up to leave. 

“I’ll take it easy. Love you too.”

Constantin is in bed when Elizabet arrives. 

“Cousin! They tell me you have managed the threat and our allies are safe.” 

“Yes, thanks to Kurt’s warning and the decisive action we took, the leaders have been arrested and Hikmet and San Matheus were able to quell the threat.” 

“Are you well, Constantin?”

She knows he isn’t; it’s early afternoon by now and he’s still in bed. He’s frighteningly pale and she can see the beginning of the black patches and marks typical of the malichor. His illness is progressing quickly; far more quickly than mother’s. 

“I fear the pain will drive me mad, Elizabet.” 

Elizabet opens her bag and pulls out several potions. “I’ve brought potions for pain and to help you sleep. Dosage instructions are here, and if you find they help you, I can brew more. And if they don’t, we can talk to the team and see if they have any ideas.” 

“What would I do without you, dearest cousin?” 

“I believe it is more apt that I be the one asking that question at the moment,” she says with false lightness. 

Her laugh turns into a sob and she climbs onto Constantin’s bed, lying down on the pillow next to him and takes his hand. 

“You won’t let me die alone, will you?” His voice trembles. 

“I will find you a cure, Constantin, and you will die years from now; an old man.” 

He shakes his head. “It’s too late for me. Promise me I won’t be alone?”

“I’ll be there,” she whispers, before taking a moment to compose herself. “I’ve asked that my meetings outside the city be postponed for the next few weeks. If there’s a lead on a cure to follow, or you need me to travel on your behalf, I will, but I want to be here with you for now.” 

“You can’t postpone your duties inevitably. It’ll drive you mad, all that stillness.” 

“It won’t be forever. Just a few weeks, while we see research our leads and see how you’re responding to treatment. Can I try my magic on you?” 

“Try your magic. Maybe you hold the secret to the cure, Elizabet!”

He’s putting on a brave face for her. She casts her healing spell. The malichor acts less like an illness and more like a poison and his body is a mess. Very strange. There’s little she can do; her magic is having a limited effect on it, but she tries to heal some of the damage that has been caused. 

“How does that feel?” 

“Better than anything the crows have done. You’ve become good at that.”

“I’ve had more opportunity to practice than I would prefer. I can come by again tomorrow to do some more healing.” 

“Excellent! Now, let us speak of nicer things. I want to hear all about how you and your captain are doing.” 

“He’s home today recovering from an injury received yesterday. He’s fine,” she says quickly when she sees Constantin’s concerned face, “but he required a fair bit of healing last night.” 

“Lucky you know all that you do.”

“Yes. But we’re good. We are happy.”

“Boring! I can tell you two are disgustingly happy together whenever you meet with me. Give me the more scandalous details: How is he as a lover? Does he have any... unconventional interests?”

“Constantin!,” she cries in mock horror, “Would you expect me to reveal such a private thing?”

“Do take pity, Elizabet. I am terribly ill.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Only you would use your illness to get the torrid details of my sex life.”

“Oh, they’re torrid, now? Do tell, Cousin.” 

“Vasco is a very proficient lover.” 

“That much was obvious. You have a spring in your step that suggests you’re having your needs met regularly. That’s good. You spent too long having shitty sex.”

Elizabet gasps. “How could you possibly know that? Kurt didn’t say anything did he?”

Constantin laughs weakly. “He never had to. You had an affair with that noble woman - Claudette - and I spent a night with her once and... The less said about that the better.”

“You mean to tell me we’ve slept with the same woman?” She says as her cheeks grow flushed. 

“And I also know how you lost your virginity and enough said about that. When you gave up on looking for a bed to warm on the continent it was pretty simple to come to that conclusion.”

“You have a gift, Constantin. Truly,” she says sarcastically. 

“No, it appears the captain is the one with the gift.” 

“And we’ve come full circle, I see.” 

Elizabet feels lighter when she leaves the palace early in the evening. Her company, in addition to her healing seems to energize Constantin and he is able to get out of bed before she departs. His insistence on mostly sticking to fun or light topics of conversation helped and she finds she’s almost cheerful when she gets back to the apartment. 

Aphra is waiting in the sitting room with her research notes when Elizabet walks in. 

“I apologize if I kept you waiting. I was visiting with my cousin,” she explains. 

“I wasn’t waiting; I just thought it would be easier to set up here and work. Your boyfriend came around and told me you were with your cousin, anyway.” 

“Do you mind if I check in on Vasco and make myself a plate of leftovers before we start?”

“Go ahead.” 

She finds Vasco out in the garden with Siora, who appears to be making a flower crown. 

“How are you two?”

“I almost beat Vasco at chess, _Carants_. It is an interesting game.” 

Vasco stands up to give Elizabet a kiss. “It wasn’t even close,” he whispers in her ear. 

“Do you need anything, Love?” 

He shakes his head. “I’m well, and I am in good company. You’re about to work with Aphra?” 

“Yes, I just wanted to look in on you first. I had better get inside. Siora, make a crown for Vasco?” 

“Don’t give her ideas, Tempest!” 

***

“Your best bet will be to search for this ‘tierna harh cadachtas’ individual one of my colleagues spoke of. I’ve looked over everything and that’s the only lead that makes sense to pursue.”

“Perhaps she will be able to help Constantin.” 

They’ve been at it for hours. One drink turned into several more, and for a time Elizabet was concerned they’d be at this all night. Aphra’s notes are meticulous and she has many theories and ideas, but ultimately, Elizabet will need to find help elsewhere. 

But they have a plan now, which gives her hope. 

“Now that we are finished for the evening, shall we sit and chat for a bit? I had invited Vasco to join us, if you don’t mind his company too.” 

“You would like to chat?”

“If you’d like.” 

“I could have another drink. Go and find your boyfriend.” 

Vasco is sitting outside across from Siora, who has fallen asleep on the bench. 

“Should we wake her and get her inside?”

“It’s a nice night. She likes sleeping under the stars, so let’s leave her.”

He follows her indoors and they join Aphra in the sitting room. 

“I’m quite eager to see how you like this, Vasco.”

“You’ve never had good gin, Vasco?” Aphra chimes in. 

“Couldn’t tell you the good from the bad. I’ve never had it.”

Aphra looks shocked. “Don’t Nauts drink everything? Or are the taverns you frequent too cheap to even stock swill gin?” 

Vasco takes a drink. “I’ve had worse, Tempest.”

“You mean that shit Lauro tried to get me to drink on the voyage?”

“I made that mistake only once,” he turns to Aphra, “contrary to popular opinion, not every Naut spends their shore leave in the tavern. I’m the youngest Naut captain in history and I did not accomplish that with a hangover.” 

Aphra looks impressed. “Youngest? What are you - 30?” 

“24. Made captain shortly after turning 23.”

“We’re the same age,” Elizabet supplies. 

“I had not realized you were both that young. Your tattoos make it difficult to guess your age.” 

“I’ve heard that more than once from outsiders,” Elizabet hears him mutter under his breath. 

“So what does a Naut captain who doesn’t spend his shore leave in a tavern do for fun?”

“I read. Poetry mostly.”

“De Sardet, your boyfriend is bullshitting me again.”

“He is not.”

“Sorry, it just seems so...contrary to popular perception of Naut culture.” 

“I’ve no doubt your sources are more accurate than my actual, lived experiences.”

“Does your smart mouth ever get you into trouble?” 

“Frequently.”

“I like your mouth, Love.”

“I’m well aware,” he says, looking smug. 

“We’re all aware of that by now,” Aphra says, sounding resigned. 

“Aphra! Was that a sex joke? I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“More a response to your sex joke. You are not quiet.” 

“Something has to drown out yours and Petrus’ bickering.” 

Vasco picks up the bottle and examines it. “You’re well into your cups, Elizabet; you would never make a sex joke sober.” 

“When I drank enough, the gin stopped tasting bad.”

Aphra laughs. “You could just grab something else for yourself.” 

“No, it’s a...” she gestures, trying to find the proper word, “bonding exercise, to share a bottle. Or a flask.” 

“I liked our evenings sipping whiskey from a shared flask on the voyage.”

“Aren’t you two cute.” 

Vasco pours himself another drink. “So, Aphra, we’ve talked about me; we’ve talked about Elizabet’s fondness for the things I do with my mouth, but we know nothing of you.” 

“Usually one follows that with a question.” 

“Tell us about your education, then.”

“I trained under Doctor Asili for a number of years. He is one of the most well-respected minds in the Bridge Alliance. I learned a great deal from him.” 

“Did you complete your studies with him?” Elizabet asks. 

“I... made the decision to take my studies in a different direction.”

Vasco looks like he wants to push but stops when Elizabet puts her hand over his. He looks down at the research notes scattered over the coffee table. 

“It must be exciting for you to continue your research here on Tír Fradí,” Elizabet says. 

“Yes, I am excited about what I’ve discovered so far, and am looking forward to working with Dunncas. I am grateful to you for introducing us. Thank you.” 

“You are welcome.”

“Your math is off here,” Vasco points at a complex equation on one of the papers. 

“No, it can’t be wrong.”

“It is,” he hands her the sheet. 

She glares at him. “And how would you know this? You couldn’t have done this in your head and you didn’t put ink to parchment.” 

“You couldn’t do it in your head. I can.” 

“Fine, show me.” Elizabet stands so Aphra can sit next to him on the couch. 

Vasco’s proficiency at mathematics has not come up frequently since they ended their lessons on the ship. Elizabet now understands that he would have been taught as part of his training, given that Nauts rely on science and not magic, but is surprised it is a skill he’s showing off to Aphra, given the questions she’s sure to have about it.

“You’re right. Look at that. I’m going to have to look over all of this again...”

“I can check your math for you next time if you like,” Vasco grins. 

“I hadn’t realized Nauts learn mathematics, much less become skilled enough to do this sort of equation in your head.”

“A hobby,” he says simply. 

Aphra turns to Elizabet. “So your Naut likes poetry and mathematics? Did the two of you fall in love reading poetry together?” 

“The stars, actually,” Vasco says. 

“The first time we spent together were nights looking at the stars. I also spent some time teaching him how to make a healing potion.”

“Which I can do, in a pinch.”

“The noble and the Naut, bonding over the stars. Someone should write a poem about that. It’s so sweet it’s almost sickening,” Aphra says. 

“You have no interest in romance?”

“It was not encouraged during my education. My classmates and I were competitors, not potential lovers.” 

Elizabet feels a pang of sympathy for her. “I’m sorry. If you have interest in it, I am sure you could find it. I’d never loved another man or woman until I met Vasco.” 

“Maybe one day. For now, there are discoveries to be made and no time for romance,” Aphra pauses, “I think I’ll go to bed. This has been... nice, De Sardet.”

“It has been. Thank you again for your help with everything tonight.” 

As Aphra shuffles off to bed Elizabet has the feeling she may have hit a nerve with her question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mathematical skill was necessary for navigation so I always imagined Vasco was far better at it than most, especially because he made captain so young. I also like the idea of people not knowing that math is needed for navigation and being kind of shocked when he does super complex math in his head. 
> 
> Also, I headcanon Elizabet as being horrible at reading maps and the first time out in the woods as she was trying to navigate and looking at the map upside down Vasco takes it from her and never gives it back.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasco confronts Kurt.

As she has every morning since the attempted coup, Elizabet is looking him over, checking to make sure there's no signs of festering, and casting spells to hasten the healing process. 

"It's still healing well. I'll take the stitches out in another two days, but I think you can try going without the sling today. Just be careful with your movements and if you feel too much pain, slow down."

"So you're giving me the classic 'if it hurts, don't do it' medical advice?" 

"There's a reason it's a classic. I'm going to visit Constantin again today, would you like to come along?" 

She's also been visiting Constantin every day. 

"No. I saw him yesterday, so I'll give him a break from my presence to allow him to continue to ask increasingly personal questions about our sex life." 

She giggles. "I regret telling you that."

"Just make up something outlandish and be done with it." 

"I'll consider it."

"How did you sleep?" 

Elizabet sighs. "Not well. I had nightmares, first about Constantin dying, and then the coup, and then one where you died," her lip trembles. 

He extends his right arm in invitation, and she curls into his embrace, and he lies back down with her on top of him. 

"There's little I can do to ease your burdens but I am here."

"Your presence helps more than you know."

He holds her until she calms and rises again, ready to begin her day. She dresses, and he watches as she does her hair. While he's memorized the practiced movements of her hands as she braids and pins her hair, he still finds it fascinating to watch. 

When she’s finished she walks over to him and runs her hand along his cheek. It’s difficult to shave one handed so he hasn’t bothered since the morning of the coup and she finds the light stubble on his face to be fascinating.

“It’s almost as if you’ve never touched a beard before,” he teases.

“What you have certainly couldn’t be called a beard,” she shoots back. 

“You wound me, Tempest.”

She kisses his cheeks and down his jaw. He catches her lips and kisses her hard.

“The stubble goes as soon as I’m able to use my arm properly.” 

“I can enjoy the novelty until then.” 

She gives him one last kiss before leaving the bedroom.

It's quiet. Vasco doesn't mind the slower pace of the last few days; he's had precious few days in his life devoted entirely to rest and leisure. But it will be nice when he has full use of his arm again and can get back out into the field and accompany Elizabet on her search for a cure. 

And shave. Stubble is really bloody itchy. 

He's drinking his tea in the dining room when he hears the door open. Kurt walks into the dining room, presumably looking for Elizabet. He's been scarce at the apartment since the attempted coup; Elizabet had mentioned he stopped in at the palace briefly when her and Constantin were visiting the other day, but he seems to mostly be spending his time at the barracks. Something that's worrying Elizabet. 

"Do you think Kurt's angry with me? Maybe I was too hard on him," she said to him the other day.

If anything, she wasn't hard enough on him. Whatever Kurt's problem is, Elizabet is not responsible.

Kurt stops and pauses when he sees Vasco. Vasco stares directly at Kurt, refusing to break eye contact. 

"Is Green Blood at the palace?"

"Yes." It's the first thing he's said to Kurt since threatening him the day of the coup. 

Kurt rubs his neck, and looks down at the floor. "She said you were healing well when we talked. How are you feeling?" 

"I'm fine. I'm in the care of an excellent healer." 

"Listen - Vasco...I've given it a few days, but I wanted to apologize to you. I'm sorry you were injured in the fight, and I'm glad to see you are getting well."

Vasco drains the last of his tea and decides if he’s going to confront Kurt, now would be the ideal time. 

"We should head to the garden," he says simply. 

"I'm not going to fight a man who doesn't currently have the use of both of his arms!" Kurt stammers. 

He rolls his eyes. "I'm not fighting you; but I've the decency to talk to you in a place where we won't be overheard by the others." 

“We can talk,” is all Kurt says before they head to the garden. 

Vasco motions for him to sit before taking the bench across from him. Continuing to look him directly in the eye, he speaks, “You've spoken to Elizabet. Whatever you said to her is none of my business, but I want to know what the fuck you were thinking, keeping that plot to yourself until the absolute last second," his voice is cold. 

Kurt takes a breath before answering. "As I told her, if the commander and the lieutenants had any sense that she knew of the plan, it would have changed, and I would have been dealt with. Staying undercover and intervening to ensure I was there the day it happened gave us the best chance of success." 

"What I'm taking from this is you do not trust Elizabet to react to sensitive and dangerous news with discretion." 

"She trusted you to poke around the offices, which nearly got you killed and threatened the entire thing, so you'll excuse me if I thought it best to keep it to myself." 

"Someone had to do something," Vasco retorts.

They glare at one another. 

"Have you ever been somewhere when a hurricane made landfall?" 

"No? What does this have to do with anything?" He looks bewildered and annoyed at the sudden change in subject.

Vasco ignores the question. "I sailed through a hurricane once. For a ship to make it through, the crew needs to work together. There needs to be communication from the captain and other senior crew members. Our captain failed as a leader, so I stepped up, and ended up getting his position following the voyage."

"Congratulations," Kurt says blithely.

"The point I'm trying to make is that a captain doesn't keep the news of the hurricane to himself until two minutes before entering the storm. They talk to their crew. A plan is made, taking into account the specific needs of the situation and the strengths of each member of the crew. That was a hurricane, Kurt, and by keeping it from your allies, you put us all in danger." 

"I've explained my position to you, Vasco. I think you're just bitter you got beaten in a fight."

His anger, initially cool and controlled, flashes white hot. "I don't give a shit about that!," he shouts, "and that you think that is why I am angry with you shows a total disregard for what I’ve been trying to tell you! I know the risk involved in everything I do. I left that palace knowing there was a chance I’d die that day. My life is dangerous and this is hardly the worst injury I've suffered," he stops, taking a breath before lowering his voice, "I care about her. If it came down to it I’d die for her. And you know she's dealing with a lot right now. Instead of helping her carry her burdens, you added to them by throwing this at her and disappearing."

"You think this was my fault?"

Vasco stands up, and hovers over Kurt, who remains seated.

"No, you didn’t plan the coup but I think your handling of the situation is. Y'know, she wasn't stressed at all, dealing with the news her entire life was a lie, trying to get everyone on this bloody island to get along, searching for a cure for the malichor - oh, and finding out her beloved cousin is dying. And then you storm in, and tell her, 'you don't have enough to deal with, have a fucking coup!'."

He gestures towards the sky during his tirade, forgetting about his shoulder, and bites back a hiss of pain as he falls to his knee. Kurt starts to get up to offer his assistance when Vasco stops him, standing up and stepping away as if burned. 

"Don't touch me! Elizabet is gentle, and I've hardly heard her raise her voice, let alone truly show her anger. Whatever she said to you was less than you deserve, and if she won't give you the lashing you deserve then I fucking will." 

"Do you feel better, now that I've been thoroughly chewed out?" 

Exhaustion is sinking in, and Vasco realizes he’s over-exerted himself. He does his best to mask the sudden, overwhelming exhaustion so he merely sounds frustrated.

“No, because it hasn't changed anything. Her cousin is still dying and she's struggling with her anxiety. She's not sleeping well. And you're hiding at the barracks every day instead of being here, offering her your support.”

“And Elizabet worries you’re angry with her,” he thinks, but does not say it aloud. 

"She asked me to give you space,” is all he has to say in response.

"Don't use me as an excuse. You're ashamed. If you weren't, you would have hit me before I had a chance to say half the things I've said. You know I'm right. You know whatever she said to you was right. Accept it, apologize to her properly, and step up and be the friend she needs right now."

Kurt nods.

"Good talk." Vasco turns around and heads inside, concentrating to keep his steps steady and straight, leaving Kurt alone in the garden.

Vasco makes his way back up to their bedroom and sits on the bed. His heart is racing as a result of the confrontation and the anger coursing through him, and he's dizzy. He takes a few deep breaths before lying down. Likely a lingering side effect of the blood loss.

Closing his eyes, he wills his body to calm down. He would prefer not to tell Elizabet he is feeling unwell after yelling at Kurt. 

He must have fallen asleep because he wakes up several hours later to a plate of fruit and a pitcher of chilled tea. Elizabet has to have left it for him. His stomach growls, so he grabs the plate, pours himself a glass of tea, and eats. As he's eating, he hears chatting downstairs. Not the familiar bickering of Aphra and Petrus, but something quieter. After he finishes, he makes his way downstairs. Elizabet meets him at the base of the stairs. 

"How are you feeling, Love? You looked a little pale when I checked on you." 

"I'm fine, Tempest; I just needed a nap and something to eat, which you were kind enough to leave for me.” 

"Kurt's here," she fidgets nervously with her fingers, "I'm not sure if you would like to join us, but you are welcome to if you wish." 

"I think the two of you probably have some talking you need to do without me, so I'll likely head to the garden instead." 

"He apologized today," she says softly, "said he'd done some thinking and that he should have trusted me."

"That's good."

Elizabet kisses him and squeezes his right hand, and he carefully places his left arm around her. 

"It's nice to see you're able to move your arm. Does it hurt much?" 

"Not if I'm careful. It's more stiff than anything."

He leaves out that it hurts like hell when he’s in the middle of profanity laced rants aimed at her bodyguard and forgets that he shouldn’t move it much.

She gives him one last kiss before she turns around and returns to the sitting room. Grabbing a book from the bookshelf, he heads to the garden to make use of the dying light of the day. 

***

It's early evening by the time Elizabet returns home from the palace. She opens the door to find Kurt in the sitting room. Before she has a chance to greet him, he speaks. 

"I thought we could talk, Green Blood." 

"Of course. Have you seen Vasco? I should check on him first." 

Kurt doesn't answer her. 

He's not in the garden, or the dining room, and he certainly wasn't in the sitting room with Kurt. She finds him in their bedroom. Soft snores tell her he's asleep, and he looks a little paler than he was this morning. A stab of anxiety hits her; did she miss something when she checked him over today? Did he overdo it? Or did he simply not eat enough? 

“Start with the most probable and simplest cause and go from there,” she reminds herself. Heading to the kitchen, she puts together a plate of fruit, brews his tea and chills it with ice from the icebox, and brings it back upstairs for him before sneaking back out of the room, careful not to wake him. 

Kurt looks up at her when she returns to the sitting room. "Did you find him?" 

"I did. He’s napping. I apologize for the delay; I was putting together a snack for him when he wakes up." 

"You don't need to apologize for caring for your man, Green Blood." 

Elizabet looks down and fidgets with her fingers. 

"I...owe you an apology." Elizabet looks up at him. 

"You were right. I should have told you about the plot before I did. You've shown me repeatedly that you're a trustworthy, thoughtful, and intelligent woman. I thought I was protecting you, and all of my actions were taken specifically to protect you and your cousin, but I could have," he corrects himself, "should have done better." 

Elizabet takes a shaky breath, and pinches the back of her hand to try to stave off her tears. "I appreciate your apology, Kurt, and as I've said, I am grateful for your loyalty, and your protection." 

"You're having a hard time." 

She closes her eyes and nods. Discreetly, she wipes her eyes. 

"I'm sorry I haven't been around much in the last few days. I...thought it might be best I stay away; give you some space to manage everything."

"I understand." 

"The new commander - Sieglinde, is a good woman. I've fought with her before. She's loyal." 

"You approve of the choice, then? And you trust her to clean up the mess the traitors made?" 

"I do. On both counts." 

"When I am confident Constantin is stable and able to be left without my care for a few days, I intend to investigate some leads on a cure. Would you be able to get away from your duties to come with us?" 

"Of course. I can't leave my charge undefended, can I?"

"Vasco is still angry with you," she warns. 

"I'm well aware. He's not one to hide how he feels."

"Did the two of you talk earlier?" Elizabet sighs, "I hope he wasn't out of line with you." 

"He didn't say anything I didn't deserve. You picked a good man." 

"He is wonderful," she smiles, somewhat girlishly, "Vasco knows you're loyal to me. But I expect it will be some time before he trusts you again." 

"It's no less than I deserve." 

Elizabet hears footsteps coming down the stairs. 

"Will you excuse me a moment? It sounds like Vasco is up and I want to look in on him." 

The colour has returned to his skin; perhaps the result of the nap and the fruit Elizabet brought to him. He tells her he is fine, but, unsurprisingly, declines her invitation to join her and Kurt. She won't ask for details of whatever confrontation they had; that's between the two of them. He's moving his left arm, which pleases her, and she gives him a  
kiss before heading back to the sitting room.

"Is he well?" 

"He is. Just needed some more rest, is all."

"I'm sorry he ended up injured as a result of the actions of the traitors." 

Elizabet smiles ruefully. "He'll never admit it to me, but he was pleased to give me an opportunity to practice more advanced skills on an actual person."

"It looks like you did a good job on him. Though I expect he'll still have a scar from the blow."

"Yes, but he's quite excited to show it off to his crew. Says it'll be a good story."

Kurt shakes his head. "He's a strange one." 

"Living a life like his changes your perspective on such things."

"So he's the direct opposite of Lady Elizabet 'let me heal that parchment cut before it festers and kills you' De Sardet?"

"I'm not that neurotic about injury!"

Kurt smirks. "Yes you are. He'll be good for you. Maybe now I'll get the occasional bruise that will be allowed to heal naturally." 

"I needed the practice, Kurt!" 

"Oh yes, you certainly weren't afraid I was actually bleeding internally and on my death bed that one time your cousin tripped me and I fell on my ass."

"Maybe the next time a Nadaig burns you I'll leave you to recover naturally." 

"Maybe. But I give it ten minutes before you’re fussing over me."

Kurt punches her affectionately on the arm, and she kisses him on the cheek.

"Jackass."


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasco attends his first fancy dinner party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

The treatment plan Elizabet has put together for Constantin is working for now. He’s feeling better, though his energy remains low. Given his condition and the desire to avoid causing a panic amongst the nobility, his public engagements have been cancelled, forcing his advisors - and Elizabet, to take them on. 

This means Elizabet has a dinner party to attend, according to Lady Morange. 

“Is it really necessary? My team and I had been planning to leave town to further our search for a cure.”

It’s true. With Constantin now stable, Elizabet feels confident that she can leave him for a week or two at a time without trouble. Petrus has also requested they visit the Cardinal so he can make use of the information they had gathered. 

And then there’s Vasco. His shoulder has mostly healed and he’s antsy to test himself in real combat, as opposed to the daily spars he’s had with her, Petrus, and Siora. Kurt offered once and Elizabet lazily wandered into the garden with her breakfast the next morning to find the two of them using proper weapons instead of blunted swords. They hadn’t seriously injured each other yet, but they were both covered in cuts and bruises from whatever nonsense they were up to. 

Luckily they stopped when she shouted, “would the two of you stop trying to kill each other!” and even managed to look a little guilty as she patched the two of them up. 

They are still working things out and Elizabet is fine with that as long as they don’t end up dueling one another. Again.

“You are the Governor’s cousin. Given that His Highness is...indisposed, it is best a blood relative take his place.”

Elizabet hasn’t mentioned the truth about her origins to Constantin’s advisors. She sighs. 

“What will be required of me?”

“It is an intimate gathering, so there will be no dancing. We will have you fitted for a gown. Your...partner should attend.”

“Must he? He will not feel comfortable at such a gathering.”

“Given your decision to eschew discretion, there have been rumours. The best strategy would be to confront them head-on and attend the gathering with him. Let the nobility see that you two are a fine match. And they will see him as a curiosity; he does have such interesting stories.”

She sighs. “I’ll ask him, but I will not insist if he’s truly against the idea.”

“I will make arrangements with the tailor to schedule a fitting with Captain Vasco.” 

***

She returns home and sits down to dinner with the team in the dining room. There’s pleasant chatter around the table, but she can’t concentrate on it as she figures out how to ask Vasco to attend the party with her. Vasco notices. 

“I know that expression, Elizabet. You’re about to deliver news I am to find unpleasant.”

He knows her too well. 

“Should we be leaving the two of you alone, De Sardet?” Aphra asks, looking completely unwilling to actually follow through and leave. 

“No, it’s fine.”

She puts down her cutlery and looks at Vasco. “I am to attend a dinner party next week. And Lady Morange has... suggested you escort me.”

“What a fine idea!” Petrus says. 

“Bishop, you have a skewed sense of what constitutes a good idea. Why even go to one of those parties anyway? It’s a waste of time,” Aphra says dismissively.

“Because it is an opportunity to speak with the nobility, make connections, and gain advantageous information. I wouldn’t expect someone from the Bridge Alliance to be cultured enough to understand.”

“No, because we respect our time too much to engage in such frivolities, unlike those in Thélème.” 

“My understanding is that such gatherings do occur in your nation. It’s a shame you haven’t been deemed worthy to receive invitations.” 

“I’m a woman of science, not some sly, underhanded politician trying to blackmail the Cardinal to gain a promotion,” she shoots back. 

“Enough! Now that we know what the two of you think, it might be nice to hear from Vasco on the matter.” 

“I think I’d prefer to go wading in the bog,” he grumbles.

“You don’t have to go,” she says quickly, “I am perfectly happy attending on my own, or with Petrus if Lady Morange insists I am to be accompanied.” 

“It would be my pleasure to attend with you, my child.” 

“Maybe he can blackmail one of your nobles for you, De Sardet,” Aphra says, shooting a glare at Petrus. 

Petrus does not respond and Elizabet ignores the exchange, turning back to Vasco. 

“What would I need to wear?”

“A suit; so a long coat, a waistcoat, cravat, and breeches. I will be in a gown.”

“I don’t understand _renaigse_ dress clothes. They’re so impractical,” Siora says. 

“On that, we are agreed, Siora,” Vasco says. “Is there any danger? Will I be thwarting an assassination attempt?”

“I could keep watch as your bodyguard, Green Blood, if there are any concerns for your safety.” 

“I am perfectly capable of keeping Elizabet safe without you, Kurt.”

Is there wine on the table? She should have grabbed a bottle before sitting down. That this would turn into such an event was not something she had expected.

“We’ve always had good relations with the Gareau family. You’ll find them to be more decent than your average noble family. Lady Morange thinks the guests will enjoy any stories you are willing to share. Kurt, while I appreciate your generous offer, I will not require your services at the dinner.” 

“Best cover your man’s left side, then. He’s not dodging blows quickly enough yet.” 

“At least I can dodge a blow. You came out of our spar far more beat up than I.” 

“There will be no dueling at the party!” Elizabet says loudly. 

“I’ll go,” Vasco says hesitantly, “but I have a condition.”

“What is it?”

“I’m the one who undresses you at the end of the night.”

Elizabet grins. “That was always part of the plan, Love.” 

The rest of the table groans at the two of them. 

***

“And you’re certain I’m wearing all of this correctly?” 

Elizabet and Vasco are walking to the dinner party. She’s holding on to his arm tightly; after almost a year of wearing practical footwear, the heels she has on are difficult to walk in. 

Vasco’s suit is navy blue with a gold waistcoat. It was designed to match her own gown, an opulent gold gown with navy blue accents. 

It’s not the fanciest gown she’s ever worn but it’s by far the fanciest she’s dressed in at least a year. 

“Yes, I am certain. You look nice, Vasco.” 

She knocks on the door and they are escorted inside by the butler, and she readies herself for a night of false smiles and nesting with vipers. 

Lady Gareau greets her warmly. “Lady De Sardet, it has been far too long. You are a woman now! Who is your escort?” She looks at Vasco curiously. 

“It is lovely to see you again Lady Gareau. May I present my partner, Captain Vasco of the Nauts?”

Vasco extends his hand, and the woman shakes it. 

“What an interesting match the two of you make! Tell me, did your uncle arrange it? An alliance with the Nauts is a valuable partnership.” 

Vasco briefly looks scandalized before catching himself and returning his expression to something more neutral. 

“Our relationship was borne of love and not politics,” Elizabet says.

“Oh...How very...quaint. Come, the two of you must sit down.” 

They’re seated at a long table next to people she recognizes from the continent, but she cannot remember their names. 

“Lady De Sardet, it’s a shame the Governor was unable to join us this evening. Why was he forced to cancel and send you in his stead?” 

“A scheduling conflict, my lord. He sends his apologies.” 

Conversation is polite, and Elizabet feels the familiar distance between herself and the other nobility. They never quite knew what to make of her back in Sérène and that remains true here. As is common at these gatherings, she notices people staring at her mark instead of looking her in the eye. 

It’s frustrating when the mark is the only thing people notice about her. But years of experience allows her to act as if she does not notice the stares. 

The meal is served over several courses, and it is standard fare for such a party. The lamb apparently comes from a farm operation one of the attendees invested in. Instead of serving a salad made of local greens, they’ve used vegetables more commonly seen on the continent; presumably the product of another farm. 

It’s odd, Elizabet thinks, to come to a new world but refuse to adapt to the local flora and fauna. She thinks fondly of the meals Vasco has prepared for the team while they’re on the road, which are better and more interesting than the food served tonight. 

“Captain Vasco,” a voice from down the table says, “You must have a story to share with us about your time at sea.” 

“Yes, please tell us a story,” someone else chimes in. 

“I do. One from the voyage prior to the one Lady De Sardet was a passenger on.”

“It was my third voyage as captain and we were journeying from Tír Fradí back to Sérène. Our route took us to colder waters than normal for that time of the year.”

“Naut children periodically join us on board our ships from the time they learn to walk. I took my first steps on a ship. We had a young lad with us of about five. Sweet little boy; very enthusiastic and quick to learn everything we showed him.” 

“As you are all aware, children can be clumsy. We hit a patch of rough water and the lad had been sitting at the bow. He fell overboard. I had been at the helm and did not see it, but heard the commotion. I gave the helm over to a member of my crew, ordered the anchor lowered and went running.” 

“Has anyone here ever fallen through ice?”

“I did once, blind drunk, as a young man. My father had one of the servants dive in after me,” an elderly gentleman, Lord Labell, responds. 

While Elizabet knows Vasco would be irritated by the flippancy in the man’s tone, he doesn’t show it outwardly. 

“Then you will be familiar with the feeling and the body’s reaction,” he says, a little forcefully, “The shock of the cold water can cause a person to gasp involuntarily; not good when one is trying to avoid drowning.”

“Such a shock is also difficult on the body. I’ve heard tales of older Nauts surviving a fall into icy water only to be found dead in their beds hours later.” 

“As Captain it is my duty to ensure my brothers and sisters make it to land safely. So I took off my coat and boots and dove in after the lad.”

People around the table gasp in shock. 

“However did you survive, Captain?” 

“What a great deal of trouble for a boy!”

“For one of my brothers,” Vasco clarifies firmly. 

“I knew enough of how the body responds to the shock of cold to brace myself and minimize it. But the seas were choppy, and I was worried the boy had already drowned. Eventually I found him, still alive but exhausted. By this point I’d been in the water close to ten minutes and it was becoming difficult to swim.” 

“Why is that, Captain?”

“The body shuts down blood flow to non-essential muscles in extreme cold in an attempt to preserve life. In this case, it nearly did the opposite. I made it to the ladder with the boy clinging to my back, and was pulled aboard; I was nearly unable to move my arms or legs.”

“Such heroism!” a young woman cries. 

“I did my job, nothing more. Members of my crew took the boy to tend to him, and I was carried back to my own quarters. My dip in the ocean had brought on hypothermia so I was shivering and confused; I was wrapped in blankets, bed warmers were brought in and I remember little until I woke up the next day. The boy survived the ordeal and I did not lose a single man on that voyage.” 

“It appears, Lady De Sardet, that your husband is a hero,” Lord Gareau says. 

“A man did the same for me when I was the lad’s age and fell overboard. My actions were nothing special,” Vasco says, sounding uncomfortable. 

“Would you show us some Naut magic, Captain?” Lord Labell chimes in.

“That, I cannot do.” 

Disappointed chatter follows and Elizabet takes Vasco’s hand under the table. Sensing he is ready for the attention to be on someone else, she changes the subject. 

“Lord Labell, you must tell us more about how your business is doing here on Tír Fradí. Have you experienced any unique challenges?” 

It’s late by the time they depart. Goodbyes at these sorts of events take time, so when they’re ready to leave, it takes another hour before she’s exchanged the appropriate pleasantries with everyone. 

“Our daughter would be a perfect match for His Highness, Lady De Sardet. We have written to the Prince, but could you make the necessary arrangements for a meeting to begin negotiations?”

Lady Gareau’s agenda is revealed. 

“I’m afraid His Highness is not seeking to make a match at this time. He is content to remain a bachelor.”

“How disappointing,” she murmurs. 

It’s exhausting. Vasco is quiet; at no point in the evening did he speak unless he was spoken to, and he is noticeably relieved when they walk out of the house and start making their way home. 

“I know that wasn’t easy. Thank you Love.” 

“It was an...interesting experience.” 

“Those sorts of parties were never my favourite. The people tonight were kinder than most, but it’s a strange thing to be at a table full of people, yet feel more alone than ever.” 

“What is the goal of such a party, aside from trying to marry their daughter off to your cousin?”

“Lord and Lady Gareau can say they’ve had an audience with the Governor - or his stand-in, as it were, despite their failure to begin marriage negotiations. There was a fair bit of other negotiating throughout the night, and I suspect Lord Labell will be looking for favourable terms when he seeks permission to expand his operations. He will be thinking that the time he spent talking to me this evening will give him an advantage.”

“Will it?”

Elizabet laughs. “Of course not; he’s a prick.” 

“I do love you so, Tempest.” 

They arrive home and Elizabet walks up the stairs carefully, hoping not to wake anyone up with the clomping of her heels on the steps. 

Vasco closes the door, places his hand on her back and pulls her close. His other hand gently caresses her bosom, fingering the hem of her dress. 

“You looked beautiful tonight, Tempest, but I must admit, this was the part of the evening I anticipated most.” 

“Was this worth enduring the party?”

“I’ll tolerate a great deal if it means coming home and taking these fine clothes off you.” 

“All I’m hearing is a lot of talk and not enough undressing, Captain,” she teases. 

His hand caresses the back of her neck before moving down to the buttons on the back of her dress. He pops one open.

“Is this what you are looking for?” He pops another open, “Are you eager for my cock?” 

Elizabet whimpers. Slowly, he works his way down, finally unbuttoning the last button just above her hips. 

“The hanger is over there?” She nods. 

He slides the dress down and she steps out of it and he moves to hang it up. At the same time, he removes his suit jacket and waistcoat, and undoes his cravat. 

“Let me look at you.” The desire in his voice sends a spark of need to her core as she stands before him in nothing but her corset, smalls, stockings, garter belt and shoes. 

He reaches between her legs and strokes her over her smalls. 

“You’re dripping for me. Were you thinking of me all evening?”

“Yes,” she gasps, as he presses harder, “I thought about this all night. I fantasized about sneaking to another room for a quick fuck before returning to the party.”

“Naughty lass.” He removes his hand from her core and moves to the lacing of her corset. With deft fingers he quickly unlaces and loosens it before sliding it down her body. She inhales deeply for the first time in hours before reaching to unbutton his shirt and slide it off his shoulders. 

Dropping to her knees, she unbuttons his trousers, and pulls his cock out, leaning forward to lick the drop of pre-cum off the tip before taking him into her mouth. She bobs her head, stroking his cock in time with her movements. Vasco places his hand in her hair and groans. With her other hand she fondles his balls, and he hisses and thrusts into her mouth. 

“I’m close, Elizabet,” he warns and she takes him deeper and sucks him hard, moaning around his cock as his cock twitches and he spills down her throat. She swallows and looks up at him; his eyes glazed over and half-lidded with pleasure. 

He drags her up and kisses her, pulling her hair in just the way she likes.

“Get on the bed and spread your legs for me.” 

His voice is firm and it goes straight to her core; she loves it when he takes control. 

Once she is in bed he reaches for her feet, gently removing her shoes and placing them on the floor. He follows by sliding her smalls down her legs. 

“The stockings stay on,” he says as he kisses down her stomach. 

“Want me to look like a proper lady while you have your way with me?”

“You may look proper,” he moves to kiss up her thighs, applying suction and nibbling lightly, “but we both know you aren’t and that suits me just fine.” He kisses her centre. 

“Is this what you were waiting for tonight?” He licks around her clit and she gasps and digs her nails into the sheets. 

“Yes, please!” She begs. 

She wraps her legs around his back and he places his hands on her ass, lifting her slightly to get a better angle before burying his mouth back into her folds and focusing his attention on her clit. He takes it between his lips as he licks, and her head is swimming with pleasure. 

“Fuck, right there, don’t stop!” 

He chuckles and continues, squeezing her arse as he holds her in place. The pressure builds and her hands grasp his shoulder, squeezing it as she finds her release. He works her through the pleasure until she becomes too sensitive and withdraws. Gasping, she collapses back into the pillow and looks at him. Her arousal glistens on his face and he wipes it unceremoniously with the back of his hand. 

He lifts her legs over his shoulders before lining his cock up with her entrance and thrusting into her. He stills and she rocks against him, encouraging him to move. He thrusts and Elizabet moans; the position allows him to penetrate her deeply. 

“Touch yourself for me.” 

She snakes her hand down to where they are joined and rubs her clit, clenching around his cock as her pleasure builds. 

“Harder. Fuck me harder Vasco.”

He increases his pace, snapping his hips against hers as her breasts bounce against her chest. She meets his thrusts, and when she hits her climax, she digs her nails into his back and cries out his name as waves of intense pleasure wash over her. Vasco pulls out of her, stroking himself quickly, and comes on her stomach, moaning her name.

They collapse onto the bed, breathing hard and Vasco reaches for a cloth on their end table and cleans Elizabet and himself up, before running his hand over her legs. 

“Like the stockings?”

“You should keep them. I like how you look in them. And only them.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petrus’ sins are revealed.

The Bridge Alliance spy lay dead, executed by Elizabet after he followed and shot Mev, the _tierna harh cadachtas_ and turned on her and the team. 

“She’s still breathing!” Vasco shouts and Elizabet runs over to her with Siora following closely. 

The spy was a poor shot and the wound may not be fatal with immediate treatment. 

“We’ll need to get her back to the clan but we should stabilize her first. Siora, help me lift her so we can see if she has an exit wound.” 

She does and Elizabet is slightly relieved she won’t have to fish a bullet out of her. 

“I am not prepared for an injury of this severity,” Elizabet says to herself. 

“Tell me what the two of you need.”

“A blanket. Clean water, and more cloth for bandages. Our camp isn’t too far.”

Vasco takes off running, leaving Elizabet alone with Siora and an unconscious Mev. Elizabet grabs her knife and cuts off her clothes, as quickly and gently as she can, while Siora continues putting pressure on the gunshot wound. 

“I’ve never healed an injury like this,” Siora says nervously. 

“Me neither. If I focus on stopping her bleeding and repairing the damage, can you cast a revitalization spell? You’re better at those than I am.” 

“Good plan.” 

The two work in near silence, concentrating strictly on healing and Elizabet is startled when Vasco and Petrus arrive. 

“I offered my services in case I can be useful,” Petrus explains. 

It’s another hour before Elizabet feels confident that Mev can be safely transported back to her clan. They wrap her in the blanket and Petrus lifts her up. 

“Siora, can you run ahead and explain the situation? I am happy to remain with her to do what I can if they feel it would be beneficial.” 

“A good way to ingratiate yourself with her and the clan, my child.”

“That’s not why I offered.”

“I am well aware. It is still something to keep in mind.” 

Even with Siora’s intervention, the three of them are regarded with a great deal of suspicion. Petrus lowers Mev onto a bed before taking his leave, deciding it would be better for all involved to return to the camp. Siora is eventually able to convince the villagers of Vígshádhír that Elizabet means well and is willing to offer her services. 

“But how do we know she’s truthful about her skills?” One man protests.

“Siora and I have already healed and stabilized the tierna harh cadachtas, and we invite you to look over her injuries before we do more to help her.” Elizabet says with more confidence than she feels. 

Vasco leans close to Elizabet. “I should show them the results of your healing,” he says quietly. 

“To further allay your concerns, Vasco here is willing to show you a scar from a stab wound he received just a few weeks ago that I personally healed and stitched up.”

Vasco shrugs off his coat, handing it to Elizabet, and unbuttons his shirt, pulling it off his shoulder and revealing the scar. It’s still red and angry looking, and Elizabet has been massaging his shoulder nightly to help with the stiffness, but he has been able to fight and move normally. 

Impressed muttering can be heard throughout the group and Elizabet breathes a sigh of relief. Vasco buttons his shirt back up and she hands him his coat. 

“We would be honoured if you would use your skill to aid the _tierna harh cadachtas_ , _On ol Menawi_.”

“Siora and I will do our best, you have my word.”

Her and Siora are watched closely as they treat Mev. Elizabet understands entirely; the circumstances behind her injury are suspicious and she has yet to gain the trust of the village. A woman sits in the cabin with them monitoring their work.

The sun sets. They’ve done all they can for now. 

“You need to leave,” the woman points at Vasco, who is sitting against the wall of the cabin. 

Recognizing her and Siora would be exhausted and unable to defend themselves if necessary, she had asked Vasco to stick around. 

“Please, I would ask that he stay with us. While he is not a healer, he is a capable fighter and willing to aid the village if the Lions return.”

“He is _renaigse_. And you are _On ol Menawi_ , yet you speak like the _renaigse_.”

“I...am of your people,” Elizabet says carefully, “but I was taken away from my mother as an infant. I only discovered this recently. None of us here would do anything to cause your people harm.” 

Siora steps forward and speaks to the woman in their tongue. Elizabet understands little, save for the word ‘ _minundhanem_ ’. The woman looks at Vasco and then at Elizabet. 

“You may stay, until _tierna harh cadachtas_ says otherwise.”

“Thank you.” 

She wakes up two days later. Elizabet has Siora explain what has happened and what they did to save her life. Mev looks gratefully at Elizabet. 

“Thank you for my life. What can I help you with?” 

En on mil Frichtimen. If she finds En on mil Frichtimen she may find the cure she is desperately seeking for Constantin. After days in the village, Siora, Elizabet and Vasco return to the camp, where Petrus and Kurt are waiting for them. 

“We had been wondering when you would return to us, my child. Are you ready to head to San Matheus? I think it’s time I talk to the Cardinal about her activities.” 

***

“We have learned that the arena was cruel to you. You owe me a handsome sum." Petrus says smugly to the Cardinal.

Elizabet promises to keep the information they learned private in exchange for a pledge of loyalty to the Congregation and Constantin, but the Cardinal doesn't buy it; calling Petrus out on his true goal: to gain her support when he seeks the promotion to Cardinal.

"You haven't learned your lesson, then? Have you forgotten the abyss into which you plunged because of your ambition last time?"

Elizabet is confused. "What is she talking about, Petrus?" 

"Cornelia, you don't have the right to use that against me... To disclose what I revealed to you that day..."

"It was said under the seal of the Enlightenment, that is true. But if someone deserves to know, it is her."

Petrus looks stricken. "No, please."

What is going on? She turns to Vasco who shrugs; just as confused as she is. 

The Cardinal turns to Elizabet. "Petrus knew your mother, Child. Your real mother."

She gasps. "My mother? Petrus, is this true? How?"

"Yes, Child. I knew your mother. I used to go to the jail to give my spiritual support to the prisoners of Prince d'Orsay."

Elizabet's stomach sinks. Her mother - a prisoner of the prince...Rotting in a jail cell blocks from the palace as she grew up...

"That's where I met her. She was alone, afraid and exhausted...and so strange. Obviously I had no way of knowing that she came from here. The princes kept their secrets well."

"Why didn't you tell me about it? You knew my uncle lied to me and kept it secret?"

"I - I am ashamed. Ashamed at having left her to die in that dead end pit. Completely alone."

A vision of her mother alone in a dark cell springs to mind and bile rushes to her throat, and she is just barely able to avoid vomiting on the throne room floor.

"Why talk to others about it, then? Why does she know?"

"In a fit of despair, Petrus felt the need to share this great burden with someone."

"You have broken your vows," Petrus says accusingly, "I have wanted to tell you about it since the day I met you. Now that you know... I want to do something in her memory. I will help you find your family, here on the island. The prince sent you here to use you but I can ensure all of this serves a purpose."

He lies to her, and now he lies again? 

"How could I possibly believe you? You have used me for your scheming and kept me in the dark," She can't hide the devastation in her voice, despite her best efforts. 

"I understand how you feel, my child. Let us wait a bit. Time heals all wounds of the soul. Talk to me when you are ready."

Vasco wraps his arm around her, and glares at Petrus before rushing her out of the palace. After this shock, she is able to stay on her feet until they arrive at the apartment. Petrus has not followed them home; she did not ask, but suspects he has found other accomodations for the night to give her some space. 

She is shaking and dizzy, and tears are flowing down her cheeks. Kurt and Siora rush to her side. 

"What is the matter, _Carants_?" 

"Green Blood! Were you injured?"

"Petrus knew my real mother," she mumbles.

"Does she still live? He must know where she is!" Kurt says.

Something snaps in Elizabet. Weeks of learning bitter truth after bitter truth; of trying to help Constantin, the coup, everything, and she cannot stay calm anymore. 

"She died," she yells, at no one in particular, "Alone in a fucking prison cell blocks away from where I grew up in privilege and wealth I was never meant to have. Constantin's father stole her, and stole me and when she couldn't cure the malichor and was of no use to him he threw her in a cell to rot alone!"

Her anger deflates as quickly as it came. "My mum...I'll never know my mum. She died, and never got to know me," she weeps, overwhelmed with grief. 

Vasco gently guides her to the couch and wraps his arms around her, and she sobs into his neck. "I'm sorry, Tempest. We're here." 

Kurt and Siora sit across from the two of them. Eventually her sobs ease and she sits up, feeling drained. 

"Petrus has offered to help me find my family," she says quietly. "I am unsure if I trust him in this matter, given the knowledge that he has kept this from me for so long."

"Give him a chance, Green Blood. I'm sure he wants to make this right."

"Think of the joy you will feel to know your family. You should try to find them and come home to them," Siora urges. 

"It's up to you, Tempest. Whatever you want, we'll do."

Her grief is overwhelming, so she takes her leave and goes upstairs to the bedroom where she undresses and crawls into bed, hugging her knees to her chest. Vasco enters shortly afterwards. 

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want company or not.” 

“You can stay Vasco.” 

He undresses and gets into bed behind her, and unpins her hair for her before resting his hand on her hip. 

“How can I forgive him?” 

“You don’t have to. Whatever you do next, however you need to feel, that’s all up to you. He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness simply because he’s fought by your side.”

“You met your brother and it was a disappointment. What would you do, if you were me?” 

A pause. “I spent most of my life wondering where I came from and what my family was like. Meeting Bastien provided closure and let me make peace with my life.”

“I know. It helped you, in the end.”

“You might find you’ll wonder where you came from yourself, if you don’t search for your family.”

“What if I end up disappointed?”

“It’s a risk. But what if you aren’t? You may find a family that’s thrilled their lost granddaughter, niece, sibling or cousin has returned home.” 

Elizabet turns to face Vasco, cups his cheek and kisses him. “I’ll think on it. I should rub your shoulder before we fall asleep.” 

“You need not worry about me after all you’ve learned today.” 

“I want to. I like touching you.” 

He smiles at her. “I’ll never say no to you touching me.” 

***

It's days before she can muster up the courage to speak to Petrus. He had sent a note with information about his accommodations and she goes with Vasco and knocks on the door of his room at the tavern. He answers. 

"Perhaps we might speak on what we talked about?"

"Come in, my child. Vasco." 

Elizabet sits, and accepts the glass of wine Petrus offers her. She takes a sip. 

Petrus starts. "I should have spoken to you sooner, told you what I knew and not betrayed your trust."

"Indeed you should have," Elizabet responds coldly. Vasco puts a hand on her knee.

"As I said, I'd like to make up for it and allow you to be reunited with your family."

Elizabet is suspicious. "How do you intend to do that?"

"As you now know, I knew your mother. We had trouble communicating at first, of course...But we gradually learned to understand one another. She was important in her village. Based on what I know today, I think she was a _doneigad_. She told me her name, Arelwin and told me about her family. She even gave me a pendant for you...you were only a child so I gave it to Mrs. De Sardet for safekeeping..."

"She gave me a necklace when I said goodbye to her...She said it was a family heirloom. Did my mother tell you the name of her village?"

"No. But I'm sure the Nauts can help us. They were the ones who took your mother to the continent."

It is a good idea. From everything Elizabet has seen, the Nauts are remarkably meticulous in their record-keeping.

"That would be a good place to start," Vasco says, "I recommend we return to New Sérène and speak with Admiral Cabral."

The team heads back to New Sérène, and her, Petrus and Vasco visit Admiral Cabral, who recommends she speak to Captain Lisandro in Hikmet. 

She's going to be doing a lot of travelling in the near future, apparently. They don't head out immediately. Elizabet spends a few days in New Sérène visiting with Constantin. He's steadily growing more and more ill. 

"I'm not sure how much more of this I can take, Cousin," he says desperately. 

So she modifies the potions she makes for him, attempting to make them stronger. She casts healing spells, trying to repair what little damage she can, if only to buy him more time for her to find a cure. 

"You should go find your real family, Elizabet. Don't sit here and watch me die," he tells her. 

She had told him about the information Petrus had hidden from her and their plan to find her family. 

"I can leave the day after tomorrow, Constantin. Let me stay another day to make sure the new treatments are helping."

She spends the night with him. His sleep is restless; he's thrashing in bed, and moaning in agony. Even these new treatments aren't enough. 

She cries. Late in the night, once he's finally settled, she sits at the end of his bed and cries, because as she's about to gain her blood family, she's losing her cousin.

"Go, Cousin," he whispers in the morning. "I will manage with the potions you've brought and the crows."

She's not convinced, but he's forceful, and so she gives him a gentle hug and a kiss, and leaves the palace for the apartment. 

***

"My memory is not as it was, I don't see how I can help you find out where you came from," Captain Lisandro says dismissively. 

Vasco, who has been standing quietly beside Elizabet, speaks up angrily, "I don't believe this woman has introduced herself appropriately. She is Lady Elizabet De Sardet, Legate to the Congregation of Merchants, and my lover. At Admiral Cabral's suggestion, she has approached you in search of important information, which you would have hidden away in a logbook here in port. Dismiss her at your own peril," he glares at the other Captain.

Lisandro looks sheepish. "Apologies, Captain Vasco. I had no idea the matter was...personal to you. I will review my logbooks from that time period, and should be back in an hour with the information Lady De Sardet requires," he scurries away. 

Elizabet looks impressed. "You managed to chew out and frighten a man twice your age. Well done, Love. And thank you." 

"My name and rank carry some weight on the island among the other Nauts. Most know the tale of how I became Captain."

Lisandro returns carrying an old logbook. 

"Your mother came from a village on the plains in the south east of the island. I'm talking about a place where the bones of the whale are visible from the coast."

Vignamri, then! 

"I know where this is. Thank you for this information, Captain."

"Yes, thank you for, eventually, providing your assistance, Captain," Vasco gives the other captain a look, and Lisandro scurries away once again. 

They've left the port when Petrus speaks up again. "You are on the verge of finding your people. How are you feeling?"

A different emotion hits Elizabet every hour, it seems. Sometimes she is terribly sad that she did not know of her family before now. Other times she is filled to the brim with joy at the prospect of knowing a blood relative for the first time in her life. Right now, her anxiety is bubbling over and she's clinging to Vasco's arm in an attempt to drive it away.

"I don't know. A little lost. All of this is so new to me."

Vasco leans over and kisses her on the forehead.

"I know. Mrs. De Sardet raised you with loving tenderness, and you recently learned she is not your mother. I am sorry."

"She will always be my mother. I have two mothers," Elizabet says with conviction. She loves her adoptive mother; the woman who showered her with hugs and kisses and told her she loved her every single night. She was a wonderful mother, despite keeping this terrible secret from her. 

***

Ullan remembers her mother and the day she was stolen. 

"Everyone here remembers Arelwin's kidnapping. I remember the village _doneigad_ kidnapped by the people of the sea...All our warriors set off to rescue her but it was in vain. Most of them died, including the one she loved; your father. It was a dark day in which our village lost its knowledge and strength in one blow."

"Do you know if any members of my family are still alive?"

"Yes. Slán, your mother's sister. She became our new _doneigad_. She was never able to match her sister's talent - too much knowledge had been lost. Arelwin was a renowned healer across all of Tír Fradí.”

Her mother - a healer just like her! Elizabet thinks back to Siora's tale of the gifted healer stolen by the _renaigse_. Without knowing it, Siora was talking of her mother. 

A new understanding of herself dawns on her. Her healing abilities, the fact that she was able to teach herself so much on her own. She inherited her skills from her mother. What else does she have in common with her? 

"They probably hoped she could find a cure for the malichor. But all alone, far from the island, she was a frightened young woman who had lost all of her powers," Petrus says.

Ullan points them in the direction of her aunt, and the three of them head out immediately, finding her a short distance away. Her aunt is surrounded by angry beasts, to her horror. She runs, with Vasco and Petrus following shortly behind her, and casts a shield spell over her. The fight ends quickly, and Elizabet casts a healing spell in her aunt's direction. Her eyes dart over to her, and she looks at Elizabet curiously. 

"How do you feel, madam?"

"Well, thank you for stepping in. I don't understand how that happened. Usually these animals accept me but something must have frightened them."

"We are glad we arrived at the right time. We would have been very upset if something had happened to you."

Elizabet cuts in. "Excuse me, are you Slán, the _doneigad_ of Vignamri?"

"Yes, that's me. Why are you looking for me?"

"My name is Elizabet, and I've been looking forward to meeting you."

"If you would allow, we'd like to tell you our story on the way back to your village," Petrus says.

As they walk back, Elizabet and Petrus share the story of Elizabet's origins as Vasco keeps watch for threats. 

"I...just can't believe it...Yet if I think about it, your face reminds me of hers."

"My mother - or, rather, the woman who raised me, gave me this necklace..." Elizabet opens the collar of her coat to show Slán the pendant she wears.

"Your father had given it to your mother when they bound. It's good that you are wearing it today! My poor, beloved Arelwin, who died far away from us all..."

Petrus looks guilty. "She wanted me to help her die... but I was unable to do such a thing. Someone would have figured it out! And then I would have been sent back to Thélème and lost everything. So I watched her suffer and one day she died."

"I wish you had given her the peace she desired...But I cannot hold it against you."

"You don't understand! I loved her! I loved her and I didn't even have the strength to end her suffering. She's the only woman I've ever loved."

Petrus...loved her mother? The same Petrus who warned her about her relationship with Vasco, telling her that people would talk if he was more than a discreet dalliance to her?

"I never would have guessed..."

"You brought her child home. For that alone she would forgive you if she were still among us. All is well now. The child of Tír Fradí has returned home and with her, the spirit of her mother. You are home, my _Magem_! Welcome!"

Elizabet rushes to her aunt and embraces her tightly. "I am so pleased to know you, Auntie." 

Elizabet looks over at Vasco, who has been standing off to the side. "Can I introduce you to someone very important to me?"

"The young man over there?"

Elizabet smiles shyly, takes her hand and brings her over to Vasco. "This is Captain Vasco of the Nauts, he is my..."

" _Minundhanem_?”

Elizabet nods proudly, and Slán pulls Vasco into a hug. He stills in shock at first, before returning her embrace.

"I am happy you and Elizabet have found one another and that I will come to know her family," Vasco says.

"Would the two of you stay and visit for a few days? I would like to get to know my _Magem_ and her _minundhanem_.” 

"I would love nothing more, Auntie Slán."

Petrus speaks up. "I should return to our camp and give the three of you some privacy."

"I can walk you to the door." She puts her hand on his shoulder as they walk towards the door. As he gets ready to leave, Elizabet speaks up. 

"Thank you."

He's taken aback. "Despite everything you know of me?"

"You may have been cowardly in the past, to the point of letting the woman you loved suffer, you were manipulative and lied to everyone, including yourself...But thanks to what you told me, I found my origins and my family. And for that I am grateful." 

"I am pleased to have done one good deed in my life. Enjoy your time with your family." Petrus leaves, and she is alone with her aunt and Vasco. 

"What is the word in your tongue for "Auntie"? 

" _Modryb_." 

" _Modryb_ Slán," she smiles, "Can you tell me more about yourself? And my parents?"

"Come sit," she gestures to the firepit in the centre of the cabin. She quickly gets a fire going, and the three of them sit comfortably around the fire. 

"As I said before, everyone loved Arelwin. She was kind, wise, and thoughtful. Many young men in our village wanted to be bound with her. But it was your father she loved," Slan reaches and touches Elizabet's hair, "you have his hair. He wore it long, which Arelwin was very fond of. I see you have inherited such a fondness for long hair from her," she smiles mischievously at Vasco. 

"I could never match your mother's skill; the loss was too great for our village. But you heal! I felt your magic after the fight." 

"Yes, _Modryb_ Slán, but I am still looking for an instructor to further my skills. An ally of ours, Siora, has been teaching me, but says I have now surpassed her abilities and that I need to seek training elsewhere." 

"You have inherited your mother's skill. The gift she would have most wanted you to have.”

"Is this a gift you share? Would you be able to teach me?"

She shakes her head, "The skills I have lie elsewhere; I never had great talent for healing. Seek out Catasach, _doneigad_ of the Yigaig srodi clan in Wenshaveye. He is renowned amongst our people for his skills, and would be the best teacher for you." 

"Thank you, _Modryb_ Slán; I will be sure to do so."

As the day goes on, Elizabet takes her aunt's hand, or rests her head on her shoulder; expressions of affection her aunt reciprocates. The three of them cook dinner together that night, and afterwards, by the comfort of the fire, Slán unpins and brushes Elizabet's hair while Vasco sits beside her. 

"How did you meet? You and Vasco."

"Vasco was the captain of the ship that brought us to Tír Fradí. We fell in love on the voyage, but had accepted we would never see one another again once we docked. Upon arrival, his admiral ordered him to assist me with my duties, so he remained on the island and we have been together ever since," Elizabet takes Vasco's hand, “Are you bound to someone?”

“I was but she died last spring. An illness; she had been sick and weak for some time. It was a relief, in the end; she knows pain no longer.”

“How awful. I’m terribly sorry, _Modryb_ Slán.”

“We were bound shortly after we lost your mother. It was a comfort to have her with me during such a time.” 

“You must have had a lovely life together.”

She smiles. “Yes, we made each other very happy. I am pleased you have found this as well.” 

Elizabet, Vasco and Slán spend three days together before she must return to New Sérène to look in on Constantin. Three days in which they talk, cook, and get to know each other. Elizabet’s favourite moments are the quiet ones; the times she holds her aunt’s hand, or she puts her arm around her and pulls her close. The comfort she feels in being close to her family revitalizes her and she feels more at peace than she has in weeks. 

Before leaving, she asks Slán if they could visit again. She looks befuddled. 

“You are my _Magem_ , of course you are welcome to visit anytime you like. This is your home.” 

She hugs her tightly, willing her aunt to feel just how much she loves her already. Slán returns the hug and gives her a kiss on the cheek before turning to Vasco and hugging him. 

Elizabet knows she will return soon, to bask in the love of her aunt, the comfort of a home cooked meal fresh from the fire, and the warm hugs of home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Modryb_ \- ‘Aunt’ in Welsh


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasco’s thoughts on Elizabet’s reunion with her aunt and coffee with Petrus.

Vasco generally considers himself to be an insightful man. He watches, he notices, and things rarely slip by him. Which is why he constantly thinks about how he completely missed the first time Elizabet told him she loved him. 

Granted, he had been rapidly sinking into a stupor brought about by the pain medication she’d given him and was exhausted after being awake for 36 hours, sailing through a storm and spending a day working on his ship with two broken ribs. But still, it was inexcusable. 

The way Elizabet traced her fingers along his tattoos and rested her hand over his heart was her way of shouting to him that she loved him. She was quietly begging him to tell her he loved her too and he failed completely. He was just too foolish to realize it. 

They’re together now, but how long did she wonder about the extent of his feelings for her? How long did he wonder the same thing about her? He wishes he could erase any doubt she ever felt about his affections for her.

He’s frequently in awe of her confidence when dealing with nobles, politicians and the clans around the island. She negotiates with ease and can break bad news gently, without muddying the message. In short, she’s brilliant at it. 

That same confidence does not frequently translate to her personal relationships. She is quick to share kind words with those she loves, but often lacks the poetic turn of phrase she is so notorious for in politics. She can be nervous or halting; scared of inadvertently offending in some way. Some would even say she’s awkward. In all the time he’s known her he’s come to the conclusion that when she loves someone, she overthinks every word that may or may not come out of her mouth. She worries she’s caused offence without meaning to, or that she’s said the wrong thing. 

That’s not to say she doesn’t tell him she loves him; she does. 

She does it every time she touches him. On cold nights, she curls up against him and wraps her arm around him as they drift off together; often waking up in the same position, as if being apart from him even in sleep is too much for her. Despite having long ago memorized the lines of the tattoos that cover much of his body, she still traces them after they make love. She runs her fingers across his cheek, or holds his hand as they walk through the woods. In town, she hooks her arm in his as they stroll down the streets, not only unashamed but proud to be on his arm. Or, perhaps his favourite thing is when she returns to the apartments after a meeting at the palace and she rushes through the rooms in search of him so she can throw her arms around him and hold him tightly against her as she rests her head on his shoulder.

It’s not just him, either. She’s quick to offer a hug to Kurt, and he saw her cuddling with Constantin or holding his hand almost daily on their voyage. With his illness, she’s over at the palace tending to him often, and on the rare occasions he goes with her, he sees her tenderly stroke his hair or squeeze his hand. Expressions of utter love and devotion from her. 

This is why he was so touched to watch her with her aunt. Upon being introduced and revealing who she was, Elizabet pulls her aunt into a bruising hug, and takes her hand to bring her over to him. When her aunt invites her and Vasco to stay for a few days, she accepts gratefully with a kiss on the cheek. As they talk late into the night, Elizabet sits close to her aunt so she can rest her leg against hers or wrap an arm around her. 

At first, he thinks maybe he should explain to Slàn just how important touch is to Elizabet. Make sure she doesn’t miss the signals he regrets missing to this day. But then he realizes her aunt understands, because she shares the same language. Her aunt gently unbraids Elizabet’s hair and brushes it before re-plaiting it for her. When they cook together, her aunt thanks her with a touch on the arm. When he sits next to Elizabet one evening, her aunt comes over and kisses both of them on the cheek before sitting next to Elizabet and taking her hand. 

And, of course, when Elizabet first walked her aunt over to Vasco to introduce them, her aunt knew immediately who he was to her. When Elizabet proudly confirmed he was her _minundhanem_ her aunt turned back to Vasco and pulled him into a hug. 

They get each other. But, it shouldn’t be surprising, because they’re family, after all. 

***

Elizabet knocks on Petrus’ bedroom door. He opens it and looks surprised. 

“What can I do for you, my child?”

It’s understandable that her appearance surprises him. Despite her gratitude for his actions in the end, she’s remained distant. She doesn’t know how to talk to him or even how she feels about everything. But she’s reaching out today, despite the anxiety she’s feeling.

There’s more she wants to know. Stories she needs to hear. 

“I thought we could go to the bakery around the corner. The one that serves the chocolate cake and cappuccino? 

Coffee is a rare treat on Tír Fradí, just as it was in Sérène. It’s imported and extremely expensive. She brought Vasco to this shop once and bought him a coffee, thinking he might enjoy it, given his fondness for tea, but he found it far too bitter. 

“There’s nothing interesting about the flavour, Tempest; this is what the nobles drink instead of tea?”

“Not many have the opportunity to drink it regularly in Sérène. My uncle kept it on hand, but he also would not allow anyone else to drink it. Constantin made himself a cup once and...” Elizabet winces and says no more about the matter. Vasco understands and doesn’t press. 

“While it is interesting to try something that sets noble hearts aflutter, I believe I will stick to my tea.”

Petrus speaks and pulls her out of her head. “We can go for coffee, my child.” 

The shop is quiet; the morning rush has finished and they’re able to sit at a table in the corner. Elizabet orders a cappuccino and a slice of cake; Petrus, a latte. Their order arrives shortly and Elizabet takes a bite of the cake, moaning in delight. 

“Father, have you tried this? You must try a bite.” 

He indulges her and takes her fork. “It’s better than most you’ll find on the island, though I’m afraid I lack your sweet tooth.”

They aren’t just here to talk about baking and coffee. She steers the conversation. 

“I had hoped you could tell me more about my mum. You loved her and _Modryb_ Slán told me many wonderful stories about her, but I guess I...want to know how you saw her.” 

“I knew this conversation was inevitable. Arelwin was unlike any woman I’d ever met. She spoke little of our language at first, which was frustrating for the prison guards. As I was there to provide comfort to the prisoners, I took it upon myself to teach her.” 

“She didn’t trust me at first. I never blamed her; she was alone and scared in a cell across the ocean from her home. I brought her cookies from a bakery that I walked past on my way to the prison. She saw no kindness within those walls and I thought perhaps it would be a small comfort.” 

Elizabet takes a bite of her cake. “She enjoyed sweets?” 

“Yes. The food in the jails is terrible, as you can imagine. She ate little and was horrifically thin. At the time, her reaction was the strangest thing; as if she’d never seen a cookie before. But she enjoyed them and slowly she started to try to communicate with me.” 

“She was kind, much like you are. And tactile. Again, just like you. I was never allowed to enter the cell with her but once she trusted me, she would place her hand outside the bars in hopes that I would hold it.”

“Did you?”

“Every time. It was the only tender contact she had with another person.”

The thought of her mum desperately reaching out to feel the kind touch of another person devastates her. She takes a sip of her coffee to try to calm herself.

“She asked about you.”

Her eyes burn and she blinks rapidly. “Did you tell her about me?” 

Petrus nods and takes a moment to compose himself. “I told her that your adoptive family named you Elizabet. That you were a happy child in the care of a good woman who treated you with tender kindness. That you looked just like her.”

Elizabet wipes her eyes. “Was it a comfort to her?” 

“Yes and no. She was happy to know you were well and enjoyed the stories I told her of encountering you and Constantin at court, but she was always so sad for days afterwards.” 

“How old was I when she died?” 

“You were six.” 

“Six years? She rotted in that prison for six years?”

“Yes.” 

“She suffered for so long. I am glad she is at peace now.”

“I regret not giving her the mercy she begged me for.”

“I know.” Elizabet smiles sadly. “You left and returned to Thélème when I was still young.”

“There was little keeping me there after Arelwin died. An opportunity came to me and so I left, hoping to put her behind me.”

“Perhaps now you can forgive yourself. You honoured her by bringing me home.” 

“It is a forgiveness I do not feel I deserve, my child.”

“Can I ask one more question?”

“Of course.”

“Did Mum ever tell you what she named me? Elizabet is a Congregation name.”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Please. I need to know this part of me.”

“She had named you Alys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I broke my own damn heart writing about Elizabet’s mum. Writing/editing blinded by tears is hard.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Constantin finds a healer and Elizabet finds a teacher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some slight NSFW towards the end.

“Death is on my doorstep and all hope has flown through the window. I'm always suffering now, Elizabet. I'm in such terrible pain and we're yet to discover a cure."

Elizabet opens her mouth to apologize but Constantin cuts her off, "Don't blame yourself. I know how much you're doing for me, yet I'm afraid before the sickness claims me, the pain will have driven me mad. If only there was a way to ease my suffering..."

"I know of a healer with powers that are legendary among the clans...It is rumoured he can alleviate even the most terrible of pains."

"I've heard of this man, as well, Siora," Elizabet says. 

"One of our holy men lives in San Matheus. His healing powers are supposedly miraculous," Petrus suggests.

"If I may, your highness, we have the best physicians in the world. It shouldn't stop Father Petrus from praying for a miracle. It can't do any harm."

"I'm nothing more than a sailor, I don't have much to offer when it comes to healing. As it would seem Thélème are prey for the malichor just like the Bridge Alliance, perhaps it would be best to ask for aid from those not suffering from the plague."

"The sailor is right," Kurt says, "the holy men and the sages all had their chance on the continent and we all know how it went. If this healer is as skilled as our pretty little sapling says, then we need to see him right away."

"We'll leave immediately, Constantin." 

The team leaves that day, only stopping long enough for Elizabet to collect more potions to be delivered to Constantin. While on the road, Elizabet pauses to take several deep breaths in an attempt to stave off the panic attack she feels building   
inside her. Vasco and Kurt hover nearby, and Kurt asks that she explain the process she uses when she heals. 

"Why do you ask, Kurt? Are you looking to try it on yourself?"

"Keep your mind occupied. Tell me how to mend a broken bone."

“I focus and send energy towards the bone, encouraging new growth, while reducing inflammation. I’ve learned to fix minor fractures easily, but you already know that.” 

Elizabet had healed the wrist Kurt broke after a particularly nasty fight a month ago. He was able to use his wrist normally by the next week. 

“And more complex breaks? How do you manage them?”

“This is far more theoretical as I’ve never healed a complex fracture. I suppose I would have to set the fracture. I would give the patient a sleeping potion and set it by hand before following the process I just explained to you. For a serious break, I would need to repair it over several sessions. It could be a few weeks before the patient is able to move normally.”

“Fascinating.”

“I would prefer none of you end up with a complex fracture for me to practice on,” she looks at Vasco as she says this, who raises his hands up. 

“I’ve done my part. It’s someone else’s job to be your live body to practice on next time.” 

She smiles fondly at him and takes his hand. 

Kirt’s distraction works. As the six of them walk towards Wenshaveye Elizabet explains the many techniques she uses to Kurt, and eventually even Petrus and Aphra quit bickering to listen to her.

"I didn't realize this was so interesting," she says when she realizes everyone else has quieted down.

"You have a rare gift, one that is unheard of amongst the people from across the sea. Of course they would find it interesting, Carants," Siora chimes in. 

"Does Catasach take students, Siora? My _Modryb_ has suggested I approach him for further training."

"The man you ask him to treat is your cousin. When he sees your skill, he will be willing to share his wisdom with you."

As the sun sets low in the sky, the team stops and sets up camp. Vasco tends to the fire and cooks dinner, something that has become the norm when they're out in the woods. 

"I had no idea Nauts were so good at cooking, Captain," Petrus says, as they eat around the fire. 

"Most young Nauts spend time working in the kitchens, which taught me the fundamentals. Interest and practice gave me the rest."

"He also wants to spare you all from my cooking," Elizabet quips.

"Aye, I'd be a cruel man to force that upon an enemy, let alone our friends," he teases. 

She laughs. "I can do some things in the kitchen!"

"You make my tea well, you cut fruit and you can plate a meal. But the moment more than one ingredient is involved, you risk burning the apartment or campsite down." 

“That was one time, Love!”

Vasco starts counting on his fingers. “On our way to San Matheus just after we arrived, that morning you woke before me and wanted to surprise me with breakfast and I awoke to a thick blanket of smoke caused by a grease fire in the kitchen, that one time I asked you to tend to the stew as I made the salad. Oh, and Kurt told me about how the cooks banished you from the kitchen in Sérène.” 

“How could you betray me like this, Kurt?”

He grins. “I thought your man should get fair warning.” 

“Fine. But that was only three times since we’ve arrived to Tír Fradí.”

“Everything was burned when she cooked for us,” Siora says. 

“It wasn’t burned, Siora. It was also raw in the middle,” Elizabet responds indignantly, completely aware of her own failings in the culinary arts. 

“I’m never eating anything De Sardet cooks,” Aphra says. 

The rest of the team nods in agreement and Elizabet can’t help but laugh that the one thing she’s managed to get everyone to agree on is the quality of her cooking.

***

Elizabet's muscles are aching and she's exhausted. For the last two days, they've been clearing tenlan nests, which has required a long hike on difficult terrain, waking up at dawn, and the actual fighting. The day before that, her, Petrus and Siora went out searching for missing villagers. Which, as it tends to do, lead to the revelation that missionaries had   
kidnapped them. 

She really hates those bloody missionaries. A subtle threat shut down their operation, which was a tiny consolation after finding the bodies of the villagers. 

"At least we're blowing things up," Aphra says, trying to sound cheerful. 

"At dawn. When we should still be asleep."

Months on this island still have not turned her into a morning person. 

"Once we're done here, Catasach should come back to New Sérène with us," Vasco says, handing her his waterskin, "It'll wake you up a bit."

She takes a swig and the cinnamon in his tea warms her.

"I knew there was a reason I kept you around," she says gratefully as she hands him back his waterskin. 

"And here I thought it was for the sex."

"That's pretty nice too."

Kurt grumbles behind them. 

"You sound a little grumpy, Kurt. Early hour not cooperating with you?” Elizabet teases. 

"I just had the most unpleasant picture painted in my head of my charge in bed with her sailor."

"And here I thought I'd painted a nice picture," Vasco responds. 

With their tasks completed, Catasach joins them, and they make their way back to New Sérène. Elizabet is nervous to speak with him; what if he says no? What if she isn't good enough? 

Siora taps her shoulder. "You need to ask him." 

"He's the best there is; how could I possibly meet his expectations?"

Siora sighs, looks at Vasco, and starts speaking loudly, " _Carants_ , my leg is sore after the fight with the alpha. Can you take a look at it?" Siora smirks, and Vasco is looking pleased. Elizabet gives them both an exasperated look. 

Catasach turns to look at Elizabet and Siora. Well, it’s time to demonstrate what she can do, she supposes.

"You have been walking a bit off since that fight. Let me take a look at you," she tries to bite back the nervousness rapidly building, and does her best to keep her hands steady. 

She casts, searching for what is paining Siora. A tear in her left calf muscle. An easy enough thing to fix. She concentrates, focusing her energy on repairing the tear and reducing the inflammation in her leg.

"Can you try walking, Siora?" Siora takes a few cautious steps.

"It is fixed. Thank you!" She looks at Elizabet pointedly. 

"You heal, _On ol Menawi_?” Catasach asks. 

"Some. I was trying to help my cousin but am in need of further training."

"She is the lost daughter of Arelwin, the legendary healer stolen by the _renaigse_!" Siora says proudly. 

Catasach's eyebrow lifts. "This is true?"

Elizabet nods. "If you would be willing to share what you know...I understand if you aren't...I can help with my cousin..." she stammers. 

"I will teach you, _On ol Menawi_. You honour your mother's memory already." 

Tears prickle in her eyes. She bows to him. "Thank you."

They continue on their way to New Sérène. While walking she hears Vasco speaking to Siora quietly. 

"I told you that would work." 

And so, Elizabet has a teacher, and Constantin has a healer. Slowly, he improves under Catasach's care, and Elizabet spends hours every afternoon with the two of them, asking questions and practicing new techniques. Catasach is a patient teacher, and she learns quickly. 

"I knew your mother, _On ol Menawi_ ,” he says one day, "she was a good woman. It was a tragic day for our people when she was lost. It is a blessing to have her daughter returned to us." 

"I had not realized until recently it was possible to miss a woman I'd never met. But I do. I wish I'd known her; that I could have more than just stories about her."

"She is here, in a way. She lives on inside of you. You are her legacy, and she would be proud of you." 

Elizabet quickly wipes her eyes and smiles at Catasach. "Your kind words mean so much to me." 

Weeks go by, and Constantin becomes well enough to attend to his duties once more, which means Elizabet must return to hers, as well. As she walks into the apartment one evening, she finds Kurt waiting for her. 

"Kurt, how have you been?"

"Fine," he says dismissively, "I need your help dealing with one of the traitors."

"Of course. Tell me more about this."

"His name is Hermann and he is loyal to Torsten, but has escaped the justice he deserves." 

"That's easy enough; if we find evidence, he will be put to death for treason like the others."

Kurt shakes his head. "If we kill him ourselves, we make him a martyr and give strength to their movement. Besides, a normal traitor's death is too good for him," he says bitterly. 

He doesn't have to say it out loud; Elizabet recognizes this is not just a matter of justice, but revenge. 

"Heretics are granted a most unpleasant death," she says offhandedly. 

“My little Green Blood has grown up and become a sly fox. The Bishop has rubbed off on you. We would need to convince the Inquisitor he is a heretic, and make arrangements to have him placed in their prison. They will see to the   
rest." 

"I expect we will need the assistance of Petrus for this matter." 

***

"He hurt you." Elizabet says simply after they snuck him into the jail. 

"I suffered the same treatment as Reiner. The only difference is I survived...And there's even more. Believe me, I'm glad that these memories will go up in flames along with that bastard."

"Kurt - That is awful. I couldn't even imagine..." She takes a breath, "Will you be attending the execution?" 

"Yes, it will do me some good to watch him burn." 

"I'll come with you, then." 

No," he says firmly, "I won't force you to stand and watch a man burn on my account. You've done more than enough for me." 

She doesn't argue further, mindful of the boundary he has set. "Would you like some form of company from someone else?”

"I can't imagine anyone else leaping at the chance to attend an execution."

Her and Vasco are in bed when she thinks of the situation again. Kurt may not want her there with him, but some form of support would likely be welcome. 

"Love, Major Hermann is being put to death tomorrow." 

Vasco gives her an odd look. "What could have possibly brought that to mind?" he kisses her neck, "I must not be performing well enough if you were thinking of executions while I was inside of you."

Elizabet laughs. "You're perfect. Better than perfect." She puts a hand on his arse and pulls him closer to her. 

"I can tell when you're buttering me up, Tempest." 

"Kurt is going. And he won't let me go with him to provide my support. But I think it would be good for him to have someone there with him." 

"And what makes you think my company would be welcome?" 

"You've had your...differences at times, but he does respect you. And you know him best of anyone else on the team, excluding myself.”

"I'll offer my company in the morning, but I'm taking him to the tavern afterwards and you're paying for our drinks,” he taps her on the nose playfully before using his weight to roll her onto her back so he is on top of her. 

"That goes without saying. Take what you need out of my coin purse in the morning. And do make sure you buy him the good stuff and not the swill he normally drinks." 

"He'll drink properly with me, Tempest," he says, as he kisses down her chest and swirls his tongue around her nipple. 

"All this talk of executions getting you in the mood again?" she teases with a moan. 

He slides his hand towards her centre, and her breath hitches. 

"You’re getting me in the mood despite the dour subject matter. Can I have you again?" 

"Mhm.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt finds closure.

Kurt walks into the sitting room as he’s preparing to leave to watch the man who tormented him for years die and finds Vasco, sipping a cup of tea with a plateful of pastries in front of him. 

“Morning Kurt. Pastry? Thought it’d be best to eat before my morning stroll. The smell of burning flesh does tend to do a number on a man’s appetite.”

Kurt takes a pastry, though he lacks much of an appetite at the moment. 

“Green Blood put you up to this.”

“No, I plan all my days in San Matheus around the burning of their heretics,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“You don’t need to come with me.”

“I’m well aware of that fact. Elizabet thinks you could use some support. And so do I, to be honest with you. It’s not my business what your history is with this man but to go to the trouble of handing him over to the cultists because an old fashioned hanging is too good for him implies he did something terrible to you.”

“He did,” Kurt says, stiffening and on his guard. He remembers their confrontation shortly after the coup. They’ve talked occasionally since then, though they’ve yet to return to the friendly relationship they’d been building before that day. 

“You don’t need to put yourself out on my account.”

“It’s no trouble. We could make a day of it; watch a man burn, then head to the tavern and get piss drunk. Give Elizabet a day to herself.” 

He’s not convinced this is a good idea. 

“Or...” Vasco continues, “You could tell me to fuck off and I’ll head right back upstairs and shove my face between Elizabet’s thighs and make sure she has a really good morning. Up to you, really,” he shrugs. 

“You had to mention that? I’ve known her since she was a kid and now I’m thinking...Fuck, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

Vasco winks at Kurt, “I know how to push your buttons.”

“Well, come on, then.” Vasco stands up, grabs his hat and they leave the apartment. 

It’s a short walk to the Place of Punishment, where the execution is set to occur. They’re early, but not terribly so; the pyre has been set up and there’s a decent sized crowd lingering. 

“Apparently the burning of a heretic is good entertainment here,” Kurt says. 

“You could even say it’s the hottest place to be this morning.”

Kurt looks over at Vasco, who looks exceptionally pleased with himself. 

“Think you’re clever, don’t you?” 

“No, I don’t think that. I know I’m clever.” 

“Fuck off.” His tone is warm; it is surprisingly nice to have company today. 

They bring Major Hermann out and Kurt moves through the crowd, pushing his way towards the front. Vasco follows behind him silently. He reaches the front and meets Hermann’s eyes. There’s a look of realization in Hermann’s eyes before he breaks eye contact.

Good. Hermann knows Kurt is here to watch him die. 

Watching an execution is always unpleasant business, and watching a man burn is worse than anything else, Kurt figures. But, as he told Green Blood after they smuggled him into the prison: his memories are going up in flames as he burns. It’s cathartic to watch him suffer after years of living with the pain and trauma the man caused. 

Vasco stays silent at Kurt’s side. He watches, but occasionally his gaze turns to him. 

Kurt watches until Hermann’s corpse is reduced to ash and the crowd has long since dispersed. 

“We’re done here, Sailor.” Kurt turns around to exit the square. 

“Shall we head to the tavern, Kurt?”

“I could stand to drink. I’d rather not head to the Coin Tavern if it’s all the same to you.” 

“Ever been where the Nauts drink?” 

“Can’t say I have.”

“Then let’s go drink with my people.”

Vasco leads Kurt to a small tavern near the port. While not owned by the Nauts, it’s evident that the bar keeper opened the bar specifically to cater to them.

“Drinks are on me. What’ll you have?” 

“A rum. Thanks Vasco.”

Vasco heads to the bar and returns shortly with a rum for him and a whiskey for himself. Kurt raises his glass.

“To closure.”

“Closure.” 

They clink their glasses and Kurt takes a sip of his drink. Apparently Vasco - or Green Blood more likely, has shelled out for the top shelf stuff. 

Kurt drinks in silence with Vasco for awhile, content to have the company. Two Nauts he recognizes - Lauro and Flavia approach the table. 

“Cap! Where’s Lizzie?” Flavia says, giving Vasco a friendly punch on the arm. 

“Elizabet is at home at the apartment today. What are you two doing in San Matheus?”

“Shore leave. We just finished a short trip shipping goods here from New Sérène. We head back day after tomorrow,” Lauro says before pointing at Kurt, “You’re Lizzie’s bodyguard, aren’t you?” 

“I am,” Kurt turns to Vasco. “She’s Lizzie to them?” 

“‘Course she is,” Flavia says, “Her full name’s too fancy.” 

“I happen to like her name,” Vasco responds lightly.

“Will she be by later?” 

“No, it’s just Kurt and I today,” Flavia looks disappointed, “I understand sharing a drink with your hard ass captain is less fun when she’s not around to share my secrets.” 

“Glad you understand, Cap; see you!” Lauro waves and the two of them depart for another table. 

Kurt gives Vasco a look. “You’ve brought Green Blood to your Naut taverns?” 

He shrugs. “Occasionally. It’s easier for her; at the Coin Tavern she’s frequently recognized and bothered by nobles looking for favours or people who feel she’s wronged them. It stresses her out. She’s not usually recognized at our taverns as anything more than my lover and she enjoys the privacy.” 

“And apparently members of your crew like her.”

“Are you really surprised she’s become friends with them?”

Kurt laughs. “I suppose not. She has that way about her. But ‘Lizzie’?”

“It doesn’t bother her. She likes it; makes her feel like a normal person for a few hours.” 

“What secrets does she reveal to them?” 

“I had no idea you were so curious about me, Kurt.” He drains the last of his drink. “Another?” 

“Thanks. I’m not allowed to be curious about the torrid things she shares about you?” 

Vasco heads to the bar to refresh their drinks and returns shortly with a new round.

“Not torrid. Just small things. That I like to watch her do her hair. That I enjoy baking bread and that apparently I am ‘really damn good at it’. That whenever we get around to getting married she wants them there.” 

“You’ve talked marriage?”

Vasco looks baffled. “Of course we have. You can’t be surprised by this?” 

“I guess I hadn’t realized Nauts marry.” 

“It’s more common than you would think.” 

“So when are you proposing to her, Sailor?” 

“That is not a secret I can share,” he takes a sip of his drink, “needless to say, it has to wait until things settle down.” 

Kurt nods. “Right now wouldn’t be the best time. She has so much on her plate.”

“She does,” Vasco agrees. 

“How is she managing? She tells me some, but you’re the one in the mud with her day in, day out.” 

“About how you expect. She worries for her cousin. The truth about her origins is something she’s still working through. The pressure on her is intense. Her anxiety is frequently bad. It’s not always easy for her to sleep.” 

“She’s tougher than she thinks.”

“She is. But she’s still hurting.”

“It’s better now. In some ways. She has you. On the continent she had to deal with all of the noble bullshit, and her uncle. She’s always had Constantin, but...”

“It’s not the same,” he finishes. 

“She was never built for noble life. That much was always clear to me. She’s skilled at it, but it doesn’t make her happy. It stresses her out. The last few years on the continent the only time she looked truly satisfied was when she was practicing her magic or elbow deep in some carcass.”

“It was not the life she was born for,” Vasco says carefully. 

“You intend to give her the life she was born for.”

Vasco starts a little at his statement. “We’ve yet to know what the future holds for us, other than that we will walk the path together.” 

Kurt thinks he knows more about their plans than he’s letting on but doesn’t question him further. He may genuinely be friends with Elizabet as opposed to merely a member of her staff, but she’s entitled to her secrets.

“No matter what you two plan, she knows you’re in her corner. That’s not nothing.” 

“No, it isn’t.” The bartender comes by with fresh drinks and puts them on the table. Vasco nods at her in acknowledgement. “Thought it would be easier to have the bartender just bring us refills,” he pauses, “We are here for you, yet we are talking about Elizabet. How are you doing?”

“I’m at peace. I needed to see that. Despite my misgivings, I was glad not to be alone. It was good of you to come with me.” 

“Nobody should deal with that sort of unpleasantness alone.” 

Vasco sips his drink. “With the traitors and the ghost camp leaders dealt with, your people have a chance to clean things up.”

“We will. Sieglinde is a good leader and she knows there’s work to be done to restore the guard’s reputation.” 

“Good. Keep the pressure on her.” 

Kurt decides to steer the conversation away from the Coin Guard, given that it’s a loaded topic between the two of them.

“So, is it dangerous to stumble back to the apartment from here?”

“It’s safe enough. The odd drunk, that’s it. You intend to stagger home?” 

“Would you be offended if I were?”

“No, so long as you don’t expect me to carry you.” 

“I’d love to see you try, Sailor.”

“I believe you once accurately told me you have at least four stone on me.”

“Green Blood would probably be irritated with me if you couldn’t do whatever it is you two do in bed when you throw out your back carrying me home.” 

“She would have words with you, yes.” 

“Well, I don’t want to hear about it, but one more round won’t drop me on my ass. So how about it, Sailor?” 

Vasco nods and gestures over to the bartender, who brings them one last round.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love the idea of Vasco tossing an olive branch out to Kurt and going with him to watch Hermann burn before bonding over drinks.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Constantin goes missing.

"You truly won't make me go back to my father and the convent?" The young woman, Alba, looks at her nervously. 

Elizabet's heart breaks. In Alba she sees a kindred soul; another person who suffered at the hands of a parental figure and took the action she needed to in order to escape. But Alba doesn't see this - she sees a noble who may opt to betray her rather than respect her new familial bonds. 

The poor woman is clearly not responsible for selling the Naut secrets, so her and Vasco are bringing her back to the port safely before going after the real culprit: Captain Ruben. 

"Of course I wouldn't. You're a Naut now, and even if you weren't, I wouldn't force someone to return home if they did not wish to.”

"Thank you," she says quietly. 

They're sitting by the fire. Vasco has gone into the woods to catch them something for dinner. Elizabet had offered to go instead, but he told her to stay with Alba. 

"She needs someone who understands what she went through," is all he said and she couldn't argue with his logic. 

"I get it. Wanting to escape the life someone else planned for you." 

"If you'll pardon me, I have my doubts. You look every bit the noble you are."

She's not wrong. The coat she's wearing on this mission is decidedly fancier than normal. A necessary evil; her preferred outfit is being repaired by the blacksmith. 

"Arranged marriages are common amongst the nobility of Thélème, correct?" 

"Yes," she says carefully. 

"They're also common in the Congregation. My...uncle arranged a match he felt would be politically advantageous. I was 17 when he told me. He was 50 and unmarried despite his wealth because he had a reputation for cruelty. A year later, months before the wedding was to take place, I lost my virginity to a man in a Coin Tavern and made sure my betrothed knew about  
it. The wedding was called off. My uncle was furious, of course, and beat me."

"Oh."

"And then I was sent to this island at the whims of my uncle to do his bidding. I understand the desire to change your life and to choose a new family, believe me."

She doesn't share the rest of her story. That she was stolen from her mum, and then the Nauts; forced into a life that doesn't belong to her, one she's never quite fit into. It's too personal, too sad, and the wound too raw. But what she has shared is enough for Alba. 

"You and the Captain, um..."

"Vasco," Elizabet supplies.

"Yes, Vasco, seem close. Have you worked together before this?"

"He's been by my side over a year now. Where he goes, I follow."

"What if he's called out to sea?"

Elizabet smiles at her. "I follow."

"I can't imagine you at sea.” 

"One day, a few years from now, we'll meet again in port, and you'll hardly recognize me."

Vasco returns with the plucked carcass of a turkey. "Your dinner has arrived," he announces. 

"Thanks Love. Want me to cook?" 

"You always offer, yet you know I've had enough experience with your cooking to know better than to subject our guest to it."

"You went to the trouble to catch it; it'd be rude not to offer."

"And it'd be even ruder of me to accept your offer," he says as he starts in on dinner. 

***

It was Captain Ruben who was responsible for leaking the Naut secrets in the end. With stealth and just a little bit of luck, her and Vasco are able to deal with him and discover who he was selling the secrets to.

She thinks of Alba, the young woman looking for a family, whose motives were so easily doubted. 

"Will I be looked upon with suspicion when I take my rightful place with the Nauts?" Elizabet asks as they walk back to the apartment. 

"By some, perhaps. Your status as seaborn will shield you from suspicion from all who are unaware that you accepted your place as an adult. As for the rest, they'll deal with me."

"My handsome captain will defend my honour?"

"Always. All I need to do is remind them not to cross the woman responsible for keeping their insides where they belong."

Elizabet scoffs, "I'd never refuse to treat someone who needs my help."

"They don't know that.”

"I'm going to stop in and check on Constantin tomorrow. Would you like to come with me?" 

"I can, Tempest." 

***

"What do you mean my cousin has been attacked?" Elizabet's voice is low and dangerous. 

The guard explains what he witnessed, and that he thought it best to return for reinforcements. Accepting the explanation, she has Lady Morange clear the throne room. 

Constantin was heading on a journey with Catasach when the attack happened. Instead of checking the situation directly, he ran back to New Sérène. 

"I'm still deciding if cowardice or intelligence got the best of you," she snaps. Vasco's hand grasps her shoulder, steadying her. 

"What sort of mess has he gotten himself into, again?" She asks, to no one in particular. 

"We'll grab the others and find him, Tempest." 

Elizabet is sure she's never moved as quickly as she is now. Running back to the apartment, she throws open the door, and asks everyone to be ready to leave within the hour before sprinting across town to make arrangements with a carriage driver to bring them to the site the guard marked for her. They'll be at the site within a day, and she hopes she's not too late to save Constantin. 

"I don't understand what could have caused this carnage. It certainly wouldn't have been Catasach, and I can't imagine it would have been your people, Siora." 

"My people are not responsible," she says firmly.

Anxiety is coiling within her, and her hands are shaking. Visions of her cousin's corpse flash through her mind. Has she lost him already? Did he die alone, wishing to have her by his side? She can't breathe. She needs air. Without another word, she flees into the woods.

"Get yourself together," she tells herself. Constantin needs her and she's run into the woods because she can't handle the pressure. Stupid, useless, and pathetic. What if he's dying somewhere right now while she hyperventilates out in the bush? 

"Tempest?" A voice rings out. Vasco. 

"I'll be right out." 

"Can I come to you?" 

"Yes," her voice breaks. 

He stands in front of her and doesn't speak. She's gasping. Her legs give out. Vasco is on his knees and he pulls her to him. 

"Breathe with me," he whispers into her hair.

Slowly, the panic that grips her recedes, just a little. 

"He could be dying right now while I'm panicking in the woods." 

"He could be. Or he could be somewhere safe with Catasach. We don't know, and that's why we are out here searching."

"I need to be stronger for him." 

"You're plenty strong enough. You have the weight of an entire island on your shoulders. That's enough to overwhelm anyone. Take a minute, do some slow, deep breaths, and then we will head to see if there were any survivors who escaped the battle." 

She gets up, slowly and Vasco smiles encouragingly at her. "You're not alone; let all of us shoulder what we can."

Constantin. She just needs to find Constantin. 

*** 

Elizabet has never seen burns like this before. The poor soldier was critically wounded escaping the battle, and he is key to finding out what happened. 

"I can do my best to heal him," she tells his superior officer, who nods and leaves her and Siora alone with the man. 

"Let's see how much I've retained from Catasach's lessons," she says grimly. 

It takes the entire night. She rebuilds burned muscles and nerves, and has to encourage layer after layer of new skin to grow over the majority of his body. She had been prepared to shove a pain relieving potion and a sleeping potion down his throat if necessary, but the man remains blissfully unconscious during the ordeal. Understandable, given the amount of trauma his body has endured, and a blessing for the poor man who will remember none of this. 

Briefly, she had considered breaking the healing process into several sessions over two days, but that would leave his wounds vulnerable to festering. And Constantin may not have that kind of time, wherever he is. So she fixes him up over the course of the night in a marathon healing session. 

He's healed. Terrible burns have been replaced by fresh and sensitive skin. The dawn light is peeking through the curtains and she stands up and the world goes black.

" _Carants_! Wake up!"

"Tempest!" 

Someone is shaking her shoulder. Her head is pounding, and the room is spinning. Why do Siora and Vasco sound so upset with her? 

"What's wrong?" she croaks. 

Damn, she sounds terrible. 

"You fainted," Siora places the back of her hand on her forehead. 

"Oh." 

"Are you feeling sick? Did you hit your head?" Vasco asks her urgently. 

"I have a headache and I'm dizzy. I don't think I hit my head."

"You pushed yourself too much," Siora says, adopting the same tone her mother did when she was young and got caught sliding down the bannister. 

"Need information to save Constantin," she mumbles. 

"What you need is some rest, Elizabet. Let me help you up and get you into bed." Vasco wraps his arm around her back and supports her as she stands up, and slowly he brings her over to a bed. 

"But what about my cousin?" 

"When the boy wakes up, I will talk to him. You need to get some sleep," Vasco says firmly. 

"I'm fine now! Once he wakes up I'll talk to him and we can get going." 

"Elizabet!" He pauses, collecting himself before lowering his voice. "We're all here to help. You don't have to take everything on yourself." He takes her hands and holds them in his own. "Let me help you, please."

She reluctantly gives in. “I will.” 

"You frightened me, Tempest. When Siora screamed for me..."

"I'm sorry. I forgot my limits." 

He kisses her forehead. "Get some rest. When the boy wakes up I'll talk to him." 

The sun has set when her eyes open again. Vasco is sitting at her side reading a book by the light of a lantern. When he sees that she is awake he pours her a glass of water and hands it to her. She drains it, and he pours her another. 

Her throat is parched. When had she last had something to drink? She looks over to the bed where the soldier was; it is empty. A good sign, hopefully? 

"He was well enough to get out of bed. I spoke with him; he saw Constantin and Catasach get attacked. There were flames, and an islander took Constantin. He insists your cousin was taken alive. Siora, Aphra and Petrus have headed to Magasvar to investigate further. They expect to be back tomorrow afternoon."

"We should go meet them. I slept all day; I'm good to travel now."

Vasco looks exasperated. "Siora recommended you stay here and rest until tomorrow afternoon at the very earliest. They will find out what happened, Elizabet, and we can make a plan when they return." 

"I can't be still. Please, don't make me stay here," she pleads. 

Vasco moves so he is sitting behind her in the bed, holding her between his legs. He pulls her against his chest. 

"Think of it as taking the time to recover so you can be at your best when we find your cousin. Whoever took him will put up a nasty fight when we find them."

Her lower lip trembles. "I don't like it." 

"I know. Cuddle for a bit and then we can get you something to eat?" 

"I can do that." 

The visions of arriving too late to save Constantin run rampant through her mind and she shakes like a leaf. The helplessness she feels right now is the worst part of it. She’s awake, she’s able to move but she cannot do anything to help her cousin and it’s maddening.

Petrus and Aphra return the next afternoon. Their expressions are grim and they aren’t bickering; always a bad sign. Elizabet runs to them, with Kurt and Vasco following shortly behind.

“What did you find out? Where is Siora?”

“Catasach is dead,” Petrus tells her. 

Elizabet knew that would be the likely end result, but the grief still hits her like a wave. He was a good man and didn’t deserve this.

“Were you able to pick up the trail?”

Aphra shakes her head. “We examined his body but learned little. There’s no trail. It’s as if they disappeared into thin air.” 

“Siora knows of a ritual that will allow someone to view his memories. She has left to speak with Mev, and we will meet her at Vígshádhír to make arrangements for the ritual,” Petrus adds. 

Elizabet nods. “Thank you for your help. I’m sorry I was unable to go along with you.” 

Kurt rolls his eyes. “You needed the break, Green Blood. You’re running yourself ragged.” 

“We should leave and meet Mev and Siora,” Elizabet says. 

The ritual reveals that Vinbarr kidnapped Constantin. The missing High King. Which means performing the impossible: Finding a person nobody else has been able to track down. 

“This should be fun. I’ve always wanted to hunt a ghost,” Vasco says dryly. 

Great. Just fucking great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One things that’s not possible due to game mechanics is to delegate tasks. Granted, Elizabet is pretty terrible at that so Vasco ends up delegating while she’s sleeping, but given everything she’s dealing with at this point I think it works better narratively to have her not do everything thrown at her.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet rescues Constantin and something isn’t quite right with him.

"Why Constantin, King Vinbarr? He has never sought to wrong your people in any way!"

"En on mil Frichtimen saw the wound from atop the volcano. He warned me of the danger. Fed by bitterness, driven by desire! Taking without giving; he will be the end of us all." 

"I don't want to kill you, Vinbarr - please, release my cousin and walk away!"

"You are too blind, too _renaigse_ , to understand."

"Leave him!" she shouts, running at him. Rocks fly at her and she sees the blow that will kill her, one she cannot dodge normally and wills speed to her steps. In a flash of light she is away from the barrage of rocks and flanking Vinbarr. 

"Siora, get out of here," she shouts, "you do not need to involve yourself in this!" 

"I will not leave you!" 

Six on one is hardly a fair fight, and they bring King Vinbarr down quickly - or so they thought. He transforms - a Nadaig Meneimena, Siora shouts to them. With a vast wingspan and a large sword, his charges are fast and deadly and she finds herself dashing out of his path frequently. 

"You figured that out at the perfect time, Tempest!" Vasco says as he fires another shot at Vinbarr. 

It's still a long fight, even with the six of them, and she's out of breath by the time Petrus makes the fatal blow. There's no joy in winning the battle; only deep, unrelenting sadness that it came to this. Siora cries quietly, and Vasco walks over to give her a hug. 

Constantin is free from whatever spell Vinbarr placed on the stones trapping him. He's unconscious and won't wake up. Desperately, she casts healing spells, trying to find the source of the damage Vinbarr has done to him. Whatever he did is beyond her understanding, and still, he sleeps. 

"I can carry him back to New Sérène, Green Blood." 

"Thank you. We must get him back to the palace as quickly as possible. Whatever this is, I can't fix it."

She's frustrated to encounter this limitation and turns to Siora, who has joined them around Constantin. 

"A strong sleep spell. It will wear off, _Carants_.”

"Siora, I'm sorry. I did not want this." 

"You did everything you could."

Three days. Three days Constantin sleeps before she receives word he has awoken. Three days sitting at his side, casting healing spells that make no difference in his condition simply because she is sick of feeling powerless. 

He's standing in the throne room when she arrives with Vasco, and looks stronger than he has in months. He's arguing with Lady Morange, who is pleading with him to rest for another few days before returning to his duties. 

His face is deeply scarred and he has the branches more commonly seen on _doneigada_ sprouting from his head. What did Catasach do to him? 

"Are you here to scold me as well, Cousin?"

"No! No, no, no...I'm just relieved to see you are still alive."

He chuckles. "I'm quite relieved myself, actually. Without you, I'd be dead thrice. Or is this the fourth time? If we count the time you stopped me from climbing the ramparts of Serene, we'd be up to five times now!"

It's probably more than that, but Elizabet doesn't say so. "It's unbelievable. You feel no pain whatsoever? Your complexion..."

"I haven't even taken a look at myself. Is the improvement visible? Do we finally bear a resemblance?"

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Vasco wince. 

"I wouldn't go that far," she says gently, "What happened?"

"It's merely a major miracle," he says dismissively, "Come, I'm going to tell you everything."

A ritual performed by Catasach. That was the source of Constantin's miracle recovery, and the reason for their subsequent attack. A ritual that has bound him to the island, much like the doneigada. 

"And now I am _on ol menawi_ , like you! Even if the malichor left a few of its marks."

"I am pleased you have recovered." Elizabet rushes over to him and they embrace. “Take a break and have tea with Vasco and I?”

Constantin hesitates. “I really must get back to work...”

She gives him a strange look. “Just sit with us for an hour. It has been so long since you’ve been well and I’d very much like to spend some time with you.” 

“Very well. A short break and then back to work!”

Constantin has never hesitated to take a break from his duties before. Elizabet chalks it up to his enthusiasm over his renewed health. 

The three of them head to Constantin’s private quarters and sit down. A servant comes in shortly with a pot of tea and when the woman asks if Constantin requires anything else he dismisses her impatiently with a wave of his hand. 

“There is so much opportunity now that I am well again, Cousin! There is so much to do. What should my first action be? Shall I tell all of the two-faced nobles in my court clawing for power and influence what I truly think?”

“Constantin...” Elizabet starts.

“Oh, they’re irrelevant now, Elizabet. Won’t it make your job easier if you no longer need to placate them? Or anyone else for that matter!”

Elizabet looks over at Vasco, who raises his eyebrow at her. 

“Well, how about you start with the paperwork that’s piled on your desk? Speak with your advisors before burning any bridges.”

“My dear Elizabet, always trying to protect me! You need worry for me no longer.” He turns to Vasco and looks at him intensely, “you must approve; you’re never one to hold your tongue among idiots, Captain.” 

“In a world where the wrong words can lead to an untimely death, I would say it is a foolish thing to run your mouth unchecked, unless, of course, one is prepared for a fight.” 

“They are so easily squished, Captain.” Constantin’s voice is strangely cold as he speaks.

Elizabet leaves the palace feeling unsettled by the visit but shares the good news of Constantin’s recovery with the team.

"We still need to find a cure that can be applied widely, but Constantin is well again." 

"I am glad to hear it, De Sardet. I've received a note from Governor Burhan; he's requested your aid. I believe it would be prudent to head to Hikmet as soon as possible," Aphra hands her a note. 

Elizabet would never say this to anyone besides Vasco, but she really dislikes Burhan. In him, she sees an underhanded man who pretends to be ignorant of the deplorable things his people are doing. When she called him out on the spy that nearly killed Mev, and attacked her and the team, he told her the man was acting of his own accord. 

It's all a lie. A man that unaware of what is going on with his own people would be frightfully incompetent. And Burhan is many things but he is not an incompetent man.

"We should ready ourselves to leave in the morning, then." 

She's sitting by the fire Vasco built in the garden when he returns to her side with a flask.

"Don't look so confused, Tempest. Thought it might be fun to drink as we did when we were first dancing around what we have now." 

Elizabet smiles. "The man I love is such a romantic." She takes a sip from the flask he hands to her. 

"We should be careful not to drink too much. A carriage ride to Hikmet while hungover would not be ideal," she says.

"Especially given the number of beasts we are likely to fight on the road," Vasco adds. 

"What, don't want to fight a _dosentat_ hungover?"

"I don't want to fight one, period." 

Vasco takes a swig from the flask before handing it back to Elizabet. "It'll be easier now. Travelling, I mean. We won't have to hurry back to New Sérène to check on Constantin. I may not fully understand it, and I'm devastated that it cost Catasach his life, but I'm so relieved he is well again." She takes a sip from the flask. 

"You didn't think something seemed...off about him?"

"He has been ill for months, I would expect anyone would be slightly off just after they recovered from such a trial."

Maybe the stress of his illness and his miraculous recovery has left him feeling untouchable and he will settle down in a few weeks. But his erratic behaviour coupled with Vinbarr’s warning has her worried. 

Vasco drinks. "I hope you're right. I fear Catasach's solution was too easy. You know him best...just, keep an eye on him?"

"Of course, Love. This is unprecedented territory we walk, and I intend to watch closely to ensure his recovery continues." She takes the flask back from him and drinks.

She changes the subject. "Have any guesses what Burhan has us deal with?"

He scoffs. "Nothing pleasant." 

Vasco doesn't like Burhan much either. 

The whiskey warms her and her head buzzes pleasantly. 

"Have you ever had sex under the stars?" she asks. 

"Once, a few years ago. The fear of discovery made the whole thing a rather interesting, if disappointingly brief experience." He takes a drink. "Are you looking to broaden your horizons tonight?" 

"I'm tempted. It's not the same view we get on the sea here in the city but it's still beautiful," she lowers her voice, "and I've had enough to drink to be willing to risk discovery."

"I can almost guarantee you the rest of the group is staying far away from the garden tonight."

She straddles his lap. "Good. Then I can really take my time with you."

"I'm yours to do with as you wish," he kisses her hard, as he grabs her ass and grinds against her centre. 

***

They never make it to their bedroom and Elizabet wakes up with the morning sun. They fell asleep not far from the ashes of the fire after making love under the stars, illuminated by the dying embers of their fire.

Vasco is already awake and watching her fondly. 

"We're not wearing clothes."

"We are not."

He's so beautiful in the morning sunlight; his hair is delightfully tousled - likely her fault, and the bold blue-black lines of his tattoos pop against his tanned skin. 

She runs her hand over his chest to the scar on his left shoulder, running her fingers along it tenderly. "Does it pain you?" 

"My collarbone aches when it rains, and my shoulder gets stiff on occasion. Easy to deal with, overall."

"You should tell me when it hurts. I might be able to do something." 

He takes her other hand and kisses it. "If it eases your worries, I will tell you."

She moves her hand lower, to the scar he received after being shot as a teenager and touches it.

"I can't feel much there. Haven't since I recovered. It's just...numb."

She pulls her fingers away. "You never mentioned that. Should I avoid touching it?"

"You can touch me however you like." 

He runs his thumb over her lip, pausing at the small scar in the centre of her bottom lip. It's small and difficult to see. Most miss it, unless they have reason to pay close attention to her face.

"The prince's work?" he asks quietly. 

She nods. 

"I'll do worse to him if he ever crosses my path."

Elizabet snorts. "Get in line. I'd kill him with my bare hands if I didn't think it would cause chaos on the continent." She pauses, before growing serious. "Don't touch him. Not on my account. They would ensure you died badly."

"Assuming they could catch me. And that they knew it was me." 

"He's the only person I'm scared of. Please, Love."

"He won't hurt you again. I promise."

She notices he falls short of promising not to touch the prince. She rests her head on his chest. 

"Let's just stay here forever. Fuck politics." 

"Say the word and I'll take you out to sea and you'll never deal with any of this ever again."

"One day, Love."

"My child, Aphra is growing impatient to leave. Might I suggest the two of you come inside and make your final preparations for our departure?" 

Petrus stays firmly on the other side of the door as he says this to them. 

She sighs. "Duty calls." 

Back to a reality, where instead of waking up naked in the garden in the arms of her partner, she's dealing with infuriating politicians, fighting monsters, both beasts and human, and trying to bring peace between the island factions.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The horrors of Asili’s lab and a need to find comfort in one another after the fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

The lab stinks of blood and death and Elizabet gags as she opens the door. There’s nothing good to be found here and she turns to look warily at Vasco and then Aphra. Vasco’s face is set in a frown, whereas Aphra just looks sad. 

There is no mercy for the guards that attack them in defence of this vile place. 

A pit of bodies. They’re not even bothering to bury corpses anymore; they’re simply burning them. Smoke rises from the pit and the stench of charred flesh makes her gag once more. 

She’s glad Siora isn’t here. That she had the forethought to protect her from the burden of seeing these horrific crimes with her own eyes by asking her to look into the election for the next High King. 

“We need to stop him.” Vasco breaks the silence and she’s back in the present. Stopping Asili is the priority. 

Research notes are found by Aphra, who hands them to her without another word. They’re clinical; talking of the people he experimented on and murdered as if they mean nothing. They were never people to them. She crumples them angrily, prepared to destroy them when Vasco puts his hand on her wrist. 

“Keep them. You need evidence of what he’s done here.” 

The notes go in her side bag. 

Vasco’s composure breaks when they get to the cells. It’s not just Natives he’s kidnapped, but Nauts as well. He’s cursing under his breath and his fists are clenched. Elizabet rushes to free the prisoners using keys she found elsewhere. 

“They made us drink awful potions and then they took our blood. He was going to kill us!” The Naut woman tells them as she looks at the three of them with a gratitude she’s rarely seen before. 

“We will get you out of here,” Vasco tells her. His voice is steady, but Elizabet sees the rage in his eyes. That this monster had the audacity to hurt his family has infuriated him. 

There’s an exit into the wilderness through a cave and the three of them lead the prisoners out to safety. 

“Will you make it home from here?” Elizabet asks. 

“We will take everyone to our village to recover first,” a Native gentleman tells her. 

“Please stop that _renaigse_ ,” a woman in the back says just before they depart the cave. 

“He won’t hurt anyone else.”

“Aphra, what are the chances Asili will face justice for his crimes?”

She hesitates. “He is one of our most respected minds. They will not condemn him easily.” 

“But killing him ourselves only makes him a martyr,” Vasco says. 

“So the evidence must be overwhelming, then?”

Aphra nods.

“It’s a good thing this monster is thorough with his research notes.”

Elizabet turns the key and the door to his laboratory opens. The bodies of the recently deceased; the latest victims of his vile experiments lie on operating tables. 

They came too late to save them. 

Blood pools on the floor. She sees Vasco step in a pool of it only to recoil in horror. Even in the dim light she sees his hands are shaking. Wordlessly, she takes one of his hands in hers and squeezes. There is little comfort to offer in this place but she can give him this. 

There is no mercy for his assistants. 

“We were just following orders!” One of them cried. 

“You are still responsible for the actions you take, regardless of who gave the orders. The two of you helped him commit these terrible crimes so you must face justice alongside your mentor.” 

“De Sardet, I -“ Aphra stammers. 

Whatever she was going to say dies on her tongue when Elizabet turns to look at her sharply. Instead she moves to bind the hands of the two assistants. 

Armed with the key to the room Asili has barricaded himself in, they move on. She aims her pistol at Asili and sees Vasco doing the same. 

She wants him to move to attack them because she wants a reason to splatter his brain on the floor. 

But he doesn’t. What he does is worse. He talks. Attempts to justify torture by telling them it was all in the search for a cure for the malichor. 

“But why the Nauts?” Vasco asks him forcefully.

“It turns out you aren’t immune, simply highly resistant,” he says to Vasco. 

“How many of my people did you slaughter to find this out?” It’s not anger in his voice now, but quiet devastation. 

Asili yells for his guards, who surround the three of them. It’s a quick fight; she uses her pistol for much of it. Somehow it feels more intimate, more raw than killing with her magic, because she can see the impact a bullet has when it hits their skull. The way their head snaps backwards before they drop dead to the ground. 

You don’t always see what killed someone when you use magic. Frequently the injuries are hidden inside the body. Today, Elizabet wants to see what kills these thugs. 

It’s just Asili now. He looks over at Vasco, who is reloading his gun. 

“It’s too bad I didn’t get my hands on your Naut, De Sardet. I hear you’re quite fond of him.”

“You will not speak another word about him!”

Vasco looks up from his pistol and glares at Asili. 

“I wonder how you would have managed, watching the malichor take him alongside your precious cousin,” he taunts. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Elizabet screams as she moves towards him. Vasco takes her hand and wraps his other arm around her waist, stopping her in her tracks. 

“He’s trying to bait you on purpose so he can grab you, put a gun to your head and use you as leverage. Don’t fall for it.” 

“He’s using you to get at me,” she cries, as she struggles against his grip, completely unable to think of anything aside from hitting the man who threatened her partner. 

“He is. Don’t let it work. Have Aphra bind him, search this room and drag him to the jail.”

She stills in his arms. He’s right. “Aphra, please bind him. Tightly.” 

Elizabet searches the room and finds a locked trunk. There is no key to be found. Motioning to Vasco, he comes over, looks at the lock, and breaks it open by shooting it. 

More research notes. She skims them one-by-one before putting them in her side bag. The last one makes her skin crawl. 

It is a letter from one of his assistants about forcing a malichor-contaminated potion on her and Constantin when they arrived in port. 

The note drops. Vasco picks it up and reads it before shoving it into his coat pocket. 

Rage and anxiety course through her at the discovery that Asili is responsible for Constantin’s illness. Just another one of his cruel experiments. Elizabet drops to her knees and screams; releasing months of bottled up anger in the process. At one point Vasco tries to put a hand on her shoulder and she shrugs him off. It’s not comfort she wants now. 

She only stops when her voice is hoarse and her throat raw. Asili looks smug, despite his current predicament. He feeds on pain and suffering and he has eaten well today. 

Elizabet runs towards him, and before Vasco or Aphra can stop her, she pummels him with her fists. There’s no possible way she can make him hurt as Constantin has hurt these last few months, but if she can make him choke a little on his own blood as he waits for his beheading she will feel just a little bit better. 

It’s Vasco that pulls her off him. “Not like this, Elizabet,” he tells her.

Had it been Aphra she would have fought back. But Vasco’s family has been hurt by Asili just as hers has. 

“He will die but it won’t be as he deserves. He won’t suffer, he won’t hurt the way our families have.”

“No, he won’t,” Vasco agrees, “but we will take his name from him. His accomplishments. A fate far worse for an urchin like him.” He turns and glares as Asili, who has blood running down his face from his broken nose and smiles a twisted smile. 

“Let’s get him to the jail before I change my mind.” 

Burhan is a good actor, she will give him that. Everyone in the room knows Burhan was aware of Asili’s crimes. That he almost certainly endorsed them. What horrifies him is that the knowledge is now known by another nation with the power to do something about it. 

So Elizabet asks to be personally involved with the trial. It’s the one thing she can do to ensure he makes his appointment with the executioner’s axe. 

“We must not let what we discovered today take away from his many remarkable accomplishments,” Burhan says as they’re leaving. 

Elizabet stops. Considers her words carefully. Using her best diplomatic voice, she says, “there is never any justification for what happened in that laboratory and a man capable of such heinous crimes must be remembered for those, and not for anything else he may have done. I would say his previous research should be investigated thoroughly now that we know what he is capable of.”

Burhan doesn’t respond. They leave and return to the apartment. 

“I’m sorry. To you both,” is all Aphra says before retreating to her quarters. Elizabet doesn’t know what there is to say to her. Aphra hurts too, though her pain is far different from theirs and Elizabet finds she lacks the energy to provide her with comfort. 

Maybe Kurt could talk to Aphra. He walks into the sitting room as her and Vasco are removing their coats and boots. 

“How did it go at the lab?”

Elizabet just looks at him and he understands immediately. 

“Fuck.”

“Can you go check on Aphra? I...”

“Say no more Green Blood. I’ll go talk to her. Why do you sound like that?”

He’s noticed her voice is hoarse, then. 

“It’s been a bad day,” Vasco says to Kurt as he takes her hand, mindful of her bloody and bruised knuckles. 

She could have healed them almost instantly but didn’t. The reminder of her fists hitting his face is a dark comfort. 

“I’ll have someone bring some food up to your quarters. And whiskey. Just in case you two would rather forget.”

“Thanks Kurt,” Elizabet pats him on the arm as she turns to retreat upstairs. Vasco follows her. 

The door closes and they are alone in the room. Silence, usually comfortable and warm between them, feels sad and Elizabet desperately wants to fill the quiet but has nothing she can say. 

“We should take a bath. Wash that place off us.” It’s Vasco that breaks the silence, in the end. 

“Good idea.”

He walks to the tub and starts the water, filling the painful silence with the sound of warm water running into the porcelain tub. Stiffly, she removes her clothes and Vasco does the same. He pours some kind of oil into the water. 

It is in this moment she realizes she cannot smell anything. She’s too stuffed up - whether that was her body’s defence mechanism against the horrific stench of the laboratory or a response to all of her unshed tears, she is unsure. 

Steam wafts up from the water. Vasco turns off the tap and slips into the water, extending his hand in invitation. She gets in, resting her back against his chest. He wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. 

The sores and scrapes on her knuckles sting when she submerges her hands and she revels in the pain. Wordlessly, Vasco grabs a bar of soap and takes one hand gently into his. 

“We should get you cleaned up.” 

He doesn’t fuss, the way he has in the past when she’s been wounded, no matter how minor. Instead, he’s straightforward and focuses on what needs to be done without fretting over her. It’s this understanding of her that means so much; he knows what she needs at any given moment. And right now, she needs the sting. 

“I don’t even know what to say about today,” she says to him finally. 

“We were both there. I’m unsure there’s anything more that needs to be said.” 

“I’ll go to the prosecutor first thing in the morning.”

“I know. I will join you, if you’ll have me.” 

She turns around to look at him and sees the rage and sadness that’s been lurking in his eyes all day. He hurts, as she does, and there’s no way to fix this tonight. But tomorrow, they can take action. 

“I’d love to have you by my side. All of those people and our families deserve justice.” 

“Yes,” he says simply. 

They sit in the tub until the water has gone cold and their skin is pruned. It’s Elizabet who stands up and exits the tub, returning with two towels for them. 

“Do we get piss drunk tonight?” Vasco breaks the silence. 

“I’m not sure I want to drink when I feel like this.” 

“Aye. You’re right.” He sighs a watery sigh and Elizabet rushes over to him and throws her arms around him.

“We can hold each other. It won’t be enough but it will be something.”

Vasco squeezes her before taking her hand and leading her to the bed. She lies on top of him, with her head against his chest. 

For awhile, all she hears is the sound of his steady breathing and his heart beating against her ear. 

“Kurt never taught you to punch,” he says suddenly. She looks up at him. 

“Yes he did.”

“Then I am going to need to have a talk with him because your form was terrible.” 

“It wasn’t that bad!” She retorts. 

He gives her a look. “I might have let you hit him a few more times if I wasn’t worried you were going to break your hands.” 

“Well - it’s not like I had many opportunities to punch people!” 

“So you’re telling me Elizabet De Sardet didn’t get into scraps with the noble brats?” 

“That was Constantin. I took on your role and pulled him off the noble brats. So you’re telling me you know how to throw a punch?”

Vasco chuckles and runs his fingers through her hair. “Of course I do. I was a fiery asshole as a kid.” 

“Shocking.”

“I was a short little thing and an older lad decided to pick on me. Tall, broad; probably had a good foot on me. Admiral Cabral - well, Captain at that point, got sick of wiping me off the deck when I tried to fight back so she taught me how to throw a proper punch.”

“Wait, Admiral Cabral taught you how to fight? I can’t imagine her ever condoning that sort of behaviour on the ship.”

“She didn’t. Not really. But she knew it was going to happen anyway and thought it best to even the odds in my favour. She was the one who taught me to play to my strengths in a fight.”

“Speed and dexterity over brute force?” 

“Yes. Next time the lad picked on me I was able to dodge his blows and broke his nose. Never bothered me again.” 

“Do you know what became of him?”

“I lost track of him several years ago. Last I saw him was in the port barracks in Sérène,” he coughs suddenly and turns a brilliant shade of crimson. 

Elizabet pokes him in the chest. “You’ve got a story!” 

“He apologized to me...and I may have spent the night with him.”

“Vasco!” She cries in mock horror. “Was he a good lay?” 

“Did the job.”

“That’s not high praise.” 

“It is not.”

“I think I’m going to have to offer the admiral a bottle of something in exchange for stories from your childhood. What does she drink?” 

“I’ll never tell. Can’t have you learning all my secrets at once.” Vasco grabs her ass and rolls them before bending his head to nibble on her neck.

“A distraction?” She whimpers as he rolls a nipple between his fingers. 

“All the talk of shitty sex made me wonder why I wasn’t ravishing the beautiful woman on top of me.” His fingers reach between her legs and graze her cleft. 

“Besides, I think we could both use the distraction. And a reminder of the nicer things in the world.” Elizabet grinds against his fingers, seeking friction. 

“Don’t be gentle with me, Love. Mark me as yours.” 

He sucks hard at the juncture of her neck and shoulder before soothing the area with his tongue. 

“Mine,” he whispers against her. 

He penetrates her with his fingers and rubs her clit with his thumb. He’s rough; the pressure is on just the right side of too much and she writhes under him as he nips down her chest. 

She rocks against his hand as her orgasm builds; so close to finding her pleasure. He knows her tells enough to know she’s close, and he backs off slightly; teasing her and prolonging her pleasure. 

“Want to come on your hand...” she pants. 

“Let me watch you awhile longer. You’re so beautiful when you’re needy.” 

She groans and rocks desperately against his hand as his thumb just ghosts the top of her clit and his fingers stroke her walls. Enough to feel good, but not enough to send her over the edge. Frustrated, she nips his earlobe and he moans. 

“What are you going to do to me once I’m finished with you?” 

“Roll on top of you,” he increases the pressure slightly and she cries out, “and ride your cock until you make me scream, and then if you ask me very nicely I’ll allow you to come.”

“Cruel woman.”

“You say as you deny me,” he rubs her clit in a circular motion and she’s right back at the edge, “fuck, Vasco!” 

He bites her shoulder and she comes, rolling her hips against him as the overwhelming pleasure courses throughout her. Her head falls against the pillow, her cunt twitching with the aftershocks. 

“Debauched is my favourite look on you, Tempest.” 

“Funny, it’s my favourite look on you too.” Elizabet wraps her arms around him and rolls so she is on top of him and straddling his cock. 

“You’re not allowed to come until I say.” 

“Mhm...” 

Slowly, she slides down onto his cock and clenches.

“Elizabet, you always feel so fucking good.” 

She grinds against him, leaning forward slightly so her clit rubs against his lower abdomen. Her pace is slow; enough to stimulate herself, but not enough to bring him over the edge. Vasco grabs her ass and squeezes, trying to guide her movements. 

The familiar heat builds in her core once again and she increases her pace, chasing her pleasure. Vasco moans and snaps his hips, thrusting into her and increasing the delicious pressure on her clit. She comes, crying out in ecstasy, scratching his chest and riding him through her orgasm. 

“Fuck, Elizabet. I’m so close.” His cock twitches inside her and she rolls her hips before lifting herself off his cock. Vasco whines at the loss of her tight cunt around him. 

“Patience, Love,” she says, grabbing his nipple rings and giving them a slight tug and he cries out. 

“I love the sounds you make when I tease you.”

“You’re enjoying my torment?”

“You’ll come so hard when I’m finished with you, Love.”

Slowly, she sinks down on him again and rides him at a torturously slow pace. Though she means to tease him, he’s so keyed up she feels him build quickly; his cock grows desperately hard and his muscles stiffen as he chases his orgasm. Once again, Elizabet stops moving to keep him trapped at the edge of his pleasure for as long as she can. 

He whimpers and snaps his hips, trying to finish himself. She leans down and sucks his neck, marking him as hers. 

“Elizabet...” he moans her name so prettily that she feels her cunt twitch and ache. 

“I’m not sure what you want, Vasco.” She grinds against him, bringing her closer to the height of her pleasure once more. 

“Please let me come. Let me come with you, Tempest. I need to come, please,” he babbles as he grabs her hips and thrusts up into her. 

“Come for me.” Elizabet digs her nails into his chest as she hits her own peak. He follows shortly after, spilling inside her with a moan. 

He’s breathless, and strands of hair stick to his damp forehead. Tiny crescent shaped marks and scratches from her nails mark his chest and he bears a love bite on his neck matching the one he gave her. His cock is softening inside her but she doesn’t move off him. 

The world outside their bedroom may be horrible sometimes, but it also gave her this beautiful man who brings her joy, companionship and incredible, earth-shaking pleasure. 

“What are you thinking, Tempest?” He pulls her from her thoughts. 

“That I still can’t believe my luck and that I have the most beautiful man there is under me.” 

“If you’re sweet talking me in hopes of another round, I’m going to have to disappoint you. I’ve been thoroughly fucked.”

“Was it good?” 

“The best,” he purrs. Strong arms reach around her and pull her down and he kisses her.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asili’s trial and the hunt for a crown.

“Testify against your former mentor at his trial,” Elizabet urges the lab assistant in front of her. 

The assistant had been quickly released from custody, and is unlikely to be charged with any wrongdoing, despite being complicit with Asili’s crimes. 

“Why should I help you? You had me arrested.”

Aphra steps in, “The evidence against Doctor Asili is damning. By testifying against him you are preserving your own reputation. If you don’t, no scientist will be willing to take you on as an apprentice.”

Appealing to the state of their career over the fact that it’s the right thing to do is clever, and works. 

“I will do it.”

“Thank you. I will arrange to have a guard watch over you until the trial in three days’ time.”

Elizabet, Aphra and Vasco leave the lab. It’s mid-day, and the sun is shining high in the sky. 

“I hate that they won’t testify just because it’s right. They have to be threatened into it,” Elizabet says. 

Aphra puts a hand on her shoulder, and she turns to look at her. “You are lucky they even arrested the Doctor. This is a chance to make positive change. Don’t be angry that the change has yet to happen.” 

“We need to talk to the Nauts who had been held prisoner.” 

“We are likely to find them at the port,” Vasco says. 

Elizabet doesn’t know if the Nauts’ luck is very good or very bad when the three of them arrive at the port to find the survivors flanked by would-be assassins. Vasco deals with them quickly; engaging two of them in what was ultimately a very brief fight, and shooting the last in the head. 

They weren’t skilled assassins.

“We are glad we made it here in time,” Elizabet says as she guides the group away from the carnage. 

“Would you be willing to testify against Doctor Asili?” Vasco asks them. 

Elizabet had prepared a speech about the importance of their testimony but it goes unneeded when they agree to it immediately. 

Having now collected testimony from the Native survivors, the Nauts, and his assistants, as well as his research notes and a sample of the powder used in his potions, they are now ready for the trial. 

It’s just a matter of waiting around Hikmet until the trial takes place and the sentence is carried out. 

An already unpleasant proposition only made worse when Siora returns to the apartment to tell them the election of a new High King is deadlocked. 

“There are three candidates: Ullan, Derdre and Dunncas. We cannot come to a consensus.”

“How long has this process been known to take?”

“Months,” Siora shrugs. 

This is bad news. The High King is the only one who can open the doors to En on mil Frichtimen’s sanctuary, and she needs to consult with the being about a cure for the malichor. A delay of months could cost thousands of people their lives on the continent. 

“Siora, is there anything we can do to speed the process?” 

She hesitates. “There is the Legendary Crown of the High Kings. Whomever wears that crown would almost certainly be elected. But it is lost, and even if it were found, it is not your place to interfere,” she says sternly. 

Elizabet agrees, despite her current predicament. Her and Vasco talk about it that night in bed. 

“It isn’t my decision, but I need a decision to be made. How can I respect the wishes of Siora and her people while protecting the sick and vulnerable on the continent?”

“You are of Siora’s people, Elizabet. It would be less offensive for you to make the decision as opposed to myself, Petrus, Aphra and Kurt.”

“But I was raised on the continent. To many of them I’ll always be an outsider, despite being Arelwin’s daughter. And I am acting as a representative of the Congregation. My reasons for acting are not necessarily in the best interest of my people.” 

Vasco considers for a moment. 

“I think, once we are finished with Asili, you and I should introduce Siora to _Modryb_ Slàn.” 

This gives her an idea. A way to bring an end to the election without directly interfering. 

“Yes, I think you are right.”

***

Asili is guilty and was sentenced to death. Despite the overwhelming evidence, Elizabet had her doubts that justice would prevail in the end. 

She needs to watch him die for what he did to Constantin. Aphra asks to attend with her. 

“You do not need to. It will be unpleasant to watch your former mentor be put to death.”

“I’m aware. But it is my duty to witness this.” 

And so she goes and she watches. She looks him in the eye and thinks only of Constantin as his head is unceremoniously removed from his body. Her beloved cousin, who suffered for months with the malichor. Who is supposedly cured but with consequences they may be yet unaware of. 

Aphra watches beside her and from the corner of her eye Elizabet sees her discreetly wipe a single tear from her eye before it is able to fall. 

They leave and head back to the apartment. “Would you like to talk, Aphra?” 

“No. Justice was served.” 

Elizabet wants to say more, to tell her there is no shame in mourning but knows it would not be welcomed. So, instead she gives Aphra her space and makes preparations to leave to visit her aunt with Vasco and Siora. 

***

Siora is distant during their journey. She’s still frustrated with Elizabet’s desire to speed up the election process. She understands and feels terribly guilty about it being a necessity. 

But maybe visiting with her aunt and pulling the trigger on her plan will smooth things over. She knocks on _Modryb_ Slàn’s door and she answers almost immediately. 

“I saw you approach, _Magem_ Elizabet! What a gift, to have you visit,” she embraces Elizabet, “and you brought Vasco!” She opens her arm in invitation and Vasco joins the embrace. 

“Who is this you have brought with you?”

“Our friend, Siora. I wanted to introduce you two, and I wish to speak with you both about something important.” 

Slàn invites them in, and the four of them chat for awhile before Elizabet feels it is appropriate to discuss the reason for their visit. 

“As you may be aware, _Modryb_ Slàn, there is an election to choose the new High King. Siora has told me there has been no consensus.”

“Ullan is in the running. The others are Derdre and Dunncas, yes?” 

“Correct. A new High King must be elected, as they are the only one with the power to grant me access to speak with En on mil Frichtimen, which I must do as part of my search to find a cure for the malichor. Siora tells me this process could take months. The people on the continent cannot wait that long.” 

“We have spoken before of the plague across the sea.” 

“I wish to give the Crown of the High Kings to one of the candidates. However, Siora has correctly pointed out it is not my place to make the decision. Any decision I make would not truly be in our people’s best interests because I act as a representative of the Congregation of Merchants.”

“So,” she pauses, gathering her courage, “I am here to ask if you and Siora would be willing to make the decision together, with the best interests of your people in mind.” 

“You wish for me to help make the decision?”

“Yes, _Modryb_ Slàn. I trust you to make the decision that is right. Siora as well.” 

Siora speaks up. “Derdre would pledge to remove the _renaigse_ from the island. If we choose her, the people from across the sea would be forced to leave.”

Elizabet knows and considered this when she came up with this plan. “As long as she is willing to grant me access to En on mil Frichtimen, I would honour her wishes. We are guests to your home. If the High King deems us unwelcome, I would be the first to leave.”

“You are _On ol Menawi_ , _Magem_ , you would not need to leave.”

She takes Vasco’s hand. “But Vasco is not of the island. I have my doubts he would be welcome to remain and my place is by his side.” 

Slàn walks over to the window and checks to ensure it is shut before returning to Elizabet’s side. “It must not be Ullan. He only cares for himself.” 

Siora nods in agreement. Elizabet stops them before the discussion continues. 

“I don’t wish to take the chance of influencing your decision in any way. Would the two of you be willing to discuss this once Vasco and I depart on our journey to find the crown? We have plans to meet an ally of ours, Kurt, just outside the village two days from now.” 

“We will do that. This is a good compromise. Thank you, _Carants_.” 

Elizabet stands up and hugs Siora, kissing her on the cheek before breaking the embrace. “For now, let us all visit and enjoy our time together.” 

***

The three of them stand hidden near the entrance of the cave. 

“We’ve got that _Nadaig_ to handle, Green Blood.”

“We do,” she says hesitantly.

They’ve all fought their fair share of the guardians over the last year, but Elizabet is nervous. This is the first serious and risky combat they’ll have faced since the coup when Vasco was injured. 

Images of a rapidly expanding blood stain on his coat run through her mind. They’re deep in the bush right now; if something happened she would be treating the wound under circumstances that are less than ideal. How can she keep a wound clean when water can be scarce? 

“Tempest.” Vasco interrupts her thinking. “The three of us are a balanced team. We will handle this and we will all be fine.” 

He can’t know that. She knows he is aware of the risks, the same as her, but he’s trying to ease her anxiety. 

Because going into a fight on the verge of a panic attack is a good way to make a mistake in combat. 

“I’ll keep it busy while the two of you attack from range. Vasco, when you see an opening, run at it and stab it. Green Blood, keep shields on us and if the fight goes long, cast that rejuvenating spell you’ve used before.” 

“I can do that.” 

“We good to go?” Kurt looks at her and she nods. 

It’s a long fight, as the three of them work steadily to weaken the _Nadaig_. Elizabet is frequently dodging attacks, grateful she has finally mastered the art of quickening her moves with magic. A skill that turns a fatal blow into a painful one. The creature rushes her, catching her off guard and clipping her as she dives out of the way. In the rush to escape she misjudges the landing, and her ankle twists as she falls to the ground. 

The creature turns, preparing to rush her again, so she tries to stand and fails. She can’t put weight on her ankle. Desperately, she casts a shield spell on herself and a stasis spell to give her a few seconds to crawl away. 

“Elizabet!” Vasco shouts from somewhere in the field. She hears several gunshots. 

“Grab Elizabet and get her out of there, Kurt! I have this!” 

Seconds later Kurt is at her side and he picks her up and runs to the edge of the clearing where a large pile of rocks gives her some measure of protection from the _Nadaig_.

“Stay here and do not cast any offensive spells. We just need to finish it off.” He runs back to join Vasco on the battlefield. 

Elizabet nervously watches the fight. They’re down one person because of her failure and it will be her fault if either of them are injured. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she thinks. 

Vasco has moved up close with Kurt, presumably to prevent the _Nadaig_ from rushing them. He dodges its attacks easily, and makes the killing blow. They run over to her. 

“Are either of you wounded? Do you need healing?” 

Kurt and Vasco look at each other. 

“Are you shitting us, Green Blood? You can’t put weight on your leg!”

“We’re a little banged up and will be sore tomorrow but you’re the priority,” Vasco adds. 

“I’m sorry. I messed up and it’s my fault if you both feel unwell in the morning. I’m so sorry.”

Vasco kneels down beside her. “It’s the risk we run whenever we fight. We’re alive. Whatever you did to your leg when you dodged is fixable. You did nothing wrong. Do you need me to help you take your boot off?”

Now that the adrenaline from the fight is wearing off, she’s really starting to feel the pain in her ankle. “Yes, please.” 

She bites her lip as he unlaces her boot and pulls it off as gently as possible. An examination with her magic tells her it is sprained and not broken. Mending it is not terribly difficult, but she is unlikely to be able to put weight on it until tomorrow morning at the earliest. 

This is unfortunate. “Vasco, Kurt, the two of you should go into the cave and grab the crown. I’ll wait outside.”

“No!” They say in unison. 

“This is a dangerous area, Green Blood.”

“Do you really think I would leave you undefended when you’re wounded and unable to defend yourself?”

“I can cast spells and fire a pistol,” she argues. 

“Fine. Let’s see you dodge something.” Vasco crosses his arms and backs away from her. 

“Obviously I can’t do that!” She snaps. 

“I’ll stay with her, Vasco. You go in after the crown.”

“No one is going into an unknown cave alone! I will not have anyone die because of me.” 

Vasco sighs heavily. “What would you have us do? We can’t leave you here alone.”

“We can’t camp here for the night either. The area is completely undefendable and we’ve run into enough beasts on the way as it is,” Kurt says. 

“I can’t walk so one of you is going to have to carry me to a safe place to camp anyway. Bring me with you and if something attacks, drop me somewhere safe and I’ll attack from afar.”

“That’s a shit idea, Green Blood.” 

“More dangerous than leaving you here unprotected,” Vasco adds.

“We need the crown today! If we wait until tomorrow Derdre will have it. We saw her people skulking around earlier. Bring me with you and at least I can do something!” 

“Why didn’t we bring Petrus with us?” Vasco says to nobody in particular. 

“One of us goes in and takes a look. Depending on what we see in there, we’ll make a decision on the best strategy. Vasco, stay outside with her?” 

“Aye.”

“Don’t get too close to anything, Kurt and come right back out!” 

Kurt raises his hand in acknowledgement and walks into the cave, leaving Elizabet alone with Vasco. She’s shaking, both from the stress of arguing with the two of them and fear for Kurt. 

“Elizabet,” Vasco says hesitantly. 

“You’re going to lecture me, aren’t you?” 

“I’d prefer the term ‘discussion’.”

She looks at him and he starts pacing. 

“You have a huge burden on your shoulders. An unfair one. And everyone on the team wants to help in any way you can,” he looks down at the ground, “but you frequently do not let us. You insist on carrying it alone. And lately you’ve been unaware of your limitations, Elizabet. That’s more dangerous than anything else we do because you think you’re untouchable; that you can do anything but that’s not true.”

“I don’t think that,” she protests weakly. 

“Yes, you do. You can’t walk, but insist that we carry you into a cave, and will not allow one of us to go alone, despite the fact that we are both capable fighters. You also tried to insist we leave you in an area full of monsters completely vulnerable and undefended. Elizabet, you don’t need to do everything that’s thrown at you.”

“Are you suggesting we leave and let Derdre take the crown?”

“No! I’m asking you to trust us to know our own limitations and help you!” 

“I do! I can provide support to you two while staying far out of range.” 

“That’s far too dangerous, and I think you know it,” he pauses and when he speaks again his tone is gentler, “this isn’t the first time you’ve put yourself in danger rather than trust the people around you. It happened when your cousin was kidnapped too. I didn’t say anything then, because you were under so much stress and were understandably very worried about Constantin. Everyone around you is capable, learn when to step back and let us do what we excel at. Please.” 

“And what if someone gets hurt because I wasn’t there to help?”

“And what if you get hurt because you pushed well beyond your limits? It goes both ways, Elizabet.”

“You don’t understand! I can’t lose you. Or Kurt. Or anyone who follows me. If I’m there to protect you, then you’ll be safer.” Tears she has been desperately trying to stifle fall and Vasco sits down beside her and puts his arm around her. 

“I’m sorry. I just can’t keep it together. It’s so pathetic.”

“It’s not. You care and I love you for it. But I’m asking you to please trust the people around you to keep themselves alive. You have enough on your shoulders. Carrying all of us is unnecessary.” 

“Please don’t die. I’ve lost too many people,” Elizabet whispers as she rests her head on his shoulder. 

“I do my best not to.” 

Kurt returns then, holding the crown. Elizabet looks at him, mouth agape and Kurt raises his eyebrow at her, challenging her to say something to him. 

“Good scouting mission, Kurt?” Vasco says as he smirks at him. 

“Perfectly straightforward. Now, how are we getting her back to camp in one piece?” 

“I can carry her for awhile. Tempest, do you think you can get on my back?” 

“I can.” Vasco crouches down and she climbs onto his back and he stands up. 

“Your ankle fine?”

“As good as it’ll get for now.” 

They’re leaving the area when Derdre shows up. She demands the crown. 

“I’m not sure who will receive it yet, Derdre. I will not give it to you today.” 

Derdre pulls out her sword. “I will take it from you, then.” 

Kurt blocks her path to Vasco and Elizabet. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, the Legate is out of commission. I will fight in her stead.” 

“I’ll go through all three of you to get that crown.” 

The fight goes on long enough that Elizabet grows truly worried for Kurt. She starts moving to try to get off Vasco’s back to do something - anything, when he speaks up. 

“He has this, Tempest. Derdre is bleeding badly from the cut on her thigh and she’s limping, preventing her from effectively blocking his attacks. She will yield shortly.” 

Vasco is right. Derdre drops her sword after another minute of combat. “I yield! Your champion is a worthy combatant. I will see you at the meeting _On ol Menawi_.” She turns, and starts to limp away.

Elizabet calls after her. “At least let me heal your leg first, Derdre.”

“You can’t manage your own wounds, let alone mine.”

“I sprained my ankle. I’ve done what I can but I need to stay off it until the morning. I can clean the wound and heal it.”

Derdre turns and looks towards Elizabet. “Love, can you help me down?” Vasco slowly brings her to the ground and Kurt offers a shoulder to balance on as she hobbles over to Derdre. The two of them help Elizabet sit beside her. 

“Why are you doing this?” Derdre asks as Elizabet starts cleaning the cut on her thigh. 

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” 

It’s not a particularly deep cut, and Elizabet does not need to stitch it. Still, she wraps a bandage around it. 

“The skin is fresh and sensitive, so you should keep it bandaged for a few days to avoid irritating it. Take it slow, and limit walking as much as possible this week.” 

Derdre looks at Elizabet. “Thank you. You are not like the rest of your people.” Not saying another word, she stands up and slowly starts to walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It drove me crazy that there was not an option to stay uninvolved in the High King election ‘cause it was super out of character for Elizabet to make the choice herself so I changed how things go down.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A High King is elected and Elizabet meets en on mil Frichtimen.

Elizabet, Vasco and Kurt walk up to her aunt's house, and find her and Siora waiting outside for them. She rushes up to her aunt and embraces her.

"Were you successful?" her aunt asks. 

"Yes. Shall we all go inside and talk about what we do next?"

Slàn invites them inside, and double checks that the windows are closed to ensure they will not be overheard any Ullan or any of his supporters. 

"Was the journey difficult, _Carants_?"

"I sprained my ankle so it was Kurt who ended up going into the cave to get the crown. I have recovered and am well.” 

"Your friend, Siora and I have talked about who would be the best leader for our people and for Tír Fradí. We've come to a decision." 

***

"Dunncas, it has been decided that you are most deserving of the Crown of High Kings. You've told me you will work with the people of the continent, and help teach them to heal and protect the land. We could all benefit from your wisdom. Will you  
accept this crown?" 

"I am honoured, and will serve our people well. It is a blessing, to see the lost daughter of the island returned to us." 

Elizabet stands nervously amongst the gathering of clan _Mals_ , and Ullan, Derdre and Dunncas. She's an outsider and undeserving of the role she has had in the process. Thanks to the Crown of High Kings, Dunncas is formally named High King and when he reveals himself to his people as High King, Elizabet bends the knee in reverence.

Siora and Slàn made a good decision. The decision she would have made if she had any right to make it. A decision that gives those on the continent a chance, as well as a vote of confidence in the potential for cooperation amongst all of the peoples who call Tír Fradí home. 

"My first act as High King is to grant our newly returned daughter access to En on mil Frichtimen in her search for a cure to the plague that hurts those of the continent," Dunncas announces. 

It's official now. She has gained the right to an audience with a god.

***

Their meeting is interrupted by a trespasser, and Siora, Vasco and Elizabet are forced to flee the sanctuary. What she's learned has chilled her. The malichor is a poison; the direct result of the poisoning of the land. Heal the land, and the  
malichor is cured. Simple, in theory, but will the people of the continent accept such a simple solution? Will they be willing to change their ways? 

And Constantin. Whatever Catasach has done to cure him has driven him mad, and he is drawing on En on mil Frichtimen. She was warned he will destroy the world if he is not stopped. 

Dunncas is waiting for them at the entrance to the sanctuary. "I saw a man running out of the sanctuary and I heard the cries of the creatures inside. Is everything all right? Did you manage to get the answers you were expecting?"

"Yes, he told me the malichor had appeared because of the way the colonials have treated the earth. It's actually some kind of poisoning. And it would be possible to cure it by healing the earth." 

"If you need help I would be glad to be of assistance. My clan knows how to heal the earth."

"Thank you Dunncas, for your generous offer. We are grateful and will accept the aid of your people.”

"There appears to be a storm weighing down on your forehead."

"I must verify something myself. I will meet with you again soon." She bows, and departs, meeting Kurt a short way away from the sanctuary. 

"So, what did the three of you learn?" 

"We have the cure," she says quietly, "it's a poison. Heal the land and the malichor disappears." 

"That's good - right? Why are you so troubled?" 

She shakes her head, unable to speak the words aloud. Siora speaks in her stead. "En on mil Frichtimen has told her that her cousin is drawing from him, and that he must be stopped. The power has driven him mad."

"Shit.”

"There must be some way to break the connection. Save them both," Elizabet says desperately, looking at Siora. 

"Once a bond has been made, it is unbreakable, _Carants_.” 

"You mean, there's nothing we can do?" 

"I think you know what needs to be done."

"No. He's not mad. There must be some mistake. Or misunderstanding. I can talk to him - ask him to stop using the power. You know how close we are; he will listen to me!" she pleads. 

"We will return to New Sérène and talk to him, Tempest. There is no need to commit to any course of action now."

"But..." Siora starts.

"Siora, we will go and speak with Constantin," Vasco says firmly. 

Elizabet sits in a tree in the woods a little ways away from their camp. She asked for time to process everything. She needs a break from Siora's attempts to convince her that the path En on mil Frichtimen demands is the only way, and Vasco's  
attempts to diffuse the situation.

She knows, in her heart, that En on mil Fritchtimen is right. That the bond Constantin made with the island threatens the world. 

The thought of killing Constantin is horrifying. She's spent her entire life protecting him. In their youth she pulled him back from fights picked with the other children, she kept him from climbing the ramparts, and then there was that time she  
untangled him from the net in the port, preventing him from drowning. After all of that, how can she take his life? Why her?

"I can fix this," she tells herself. 

For a few weeks she thought Catasach had saved him from certain death. But if En on mil Frichtimen is correct, all he did was damn Constantin. At least with the malichor there was a theoretical chance she would find a cure in time. But with no way to break his bond to En on mil Frichtimen, death is the only solution if he has indeed gone mad with power. 

She remembers the promise she made to him. That she would be there when he died. And, now it looks like she will be there. Not as an observer, but as the cause of his death. 

Despair washes over her and she stares blankly out into the forest, not taking notice of what she sees. 

***

"Are you ready to speak to him, Tempest?" Vasco asks as she gets dressed. 

"No. If I don't speak to him I can pretend that everything is just fine and that the power hasn’t driven him mad."

"Elizabet...It's possible everything will be fine. That you can talk to him..."

She sighs. "I know you're trying to make me feel better. But an all-knowing being provided the warning. Catasach damned him with his actions."

If she had any doubts about En on mil Frichtimen's warning before, they disappear as Elizabet enters the throne room. Constantin is firmly refusing to aid Hikmet and San Matheus who are under attack and need aid. Actions that would have once been entirely out of character for him.

"Constantin, we must provide aid to our allies!" she steps in. 

"Cousin, you know our troops were decimated by the coup. And you and your team are far too busy with your other duties to help." 

"I will be happy to lend aid to our allies," she says, turning to the representatives from San Matheus and Hikmet. They thank her and depart from the throne room. 

"What updates do you have for me, my dearest Elizabet?"

"A new High King has been elected, the wise and fair Dunncas. He granted me an audience with En on mil Frichtimen, who has revealed that the malichor is a poison that came about as a result of the way the colonists treated the land. If we heal  
the land, the malichor disappears. Dunncas has offered the aid of his people to assist with this, and I have accepted his generous offer on your behalf."

Constantin looks dumbfounded and learns forward in his throne. "It is truly that simple, Elizabet?"

"Yes, as long as we can convince those of the continent to change their ways, the malichor will disappear in time." 

"I can hardly believe it, and I can't imagine the leaders on the continent will believe it. Even my father will be skeptical. But you must move forward with your plan. Did you learn anything else?"

"No, I did not," she lies smoothly. 

"Well," Constantin claps his hands together, "before you depart for San Matheus and Hikmet, shall we sit and catch up? My other appointments for the day can wait." 

A chance to pretend nothing is wrong for the last time. To talk as family, not adversaries. 

"I'd love to, Constantin. I will meet you all back at the apartment?" Her allies nod and depart the throne room. 

"Now that official business is done, let me hug my dear cousin," Constantin opens his arms and Elizabet accepts his embrace. Despite her attempts to hold them back, tears fall onto his suit coat.

"Why are you crying, Elizabet?" 

"I just miss you so much."

He pulls back and looks at her. "You were not gone for long, and I am recovered. There is nothing that will pull us apart now, Elizabet. Now let's sit and catch up over a pot of tea."

She sips her tea as they sit together on a couch in his quarters. "You've always been the only one I can count on, Elizabet, and together we can do anything. Even change the world. Put all of the leaders on the continent back in their place."

His tone frightens her. Not hopeful, or optimistic, but almost malicious. He's never sounded this way before. 

Her stomach sinks. "We have a chance to heal the land and cure the malichor. It's important we give them a chance to change their ways."

"They've had their chance. The world burns due to their incompetence. But I have the power to change everything."

"Constantin..."

"Say no more, Cousin. Be patient. In time you will see what I see."

Her hands are shaking. She puts her tea cup down before Constantin notices her hands. 

"Perhaps we can talk of different things, Constantin?" 

"Of course. Will you and your captain be married soon?"

"We haven't spoken further on the matter. Our duties still take us around the island frequently, so it could be some time before we have the opportunity to plan a wedding."

Constantin won't live to be at her wedding. Her chest feels tight and she struggles to breathe. 

He notices her panic. "What is the matter, Elizabet? Does the thought of marrying him frighten you?" He narrows his eyes," Has he hurt you?"

"No, of course not!"

"If he ever hurts you..."

"Constantin, Vasco loves me and is a kind and devoted partner,” she says firmly, "I am just overwhelmed by the idea of a wedding at the moment, is all. I am fine."

He lightens immediately. "Well, there is no rush. You may find you do not need to marry him." While his tone is light, there is something immensely threatening about his words and posture. She needs to leave, now. 

"I am afraid I should prepare for our journey. To aid Hikmet and San Matheus we will be on the road for some time, and I will need to ensure everything is in order before we depart in the morning."

"Understandably. Give me a hug, dearest cousin." 

She embraces him and holds him tightly, but instead of feeling loved, all she feels is the sense that she is trapped. 

The apartment is only a short distance from the palace and Elizabet makes it back quickly, though she does not run for fear of drawing attention to herself. She throws open the door and panics when she does not immediately see Vasco. 

"Vasco!" she starts calling desperately. "Love! Where are you?" 

There are footsteps on the stairs. "I am here, Elizabet. I was packing for tomorrow. What is the matter?" 

Elizabet runs up the stairs and trips; Vasco catches her before she hits the stairs. She clings to him desperately as she rights herself. 

"Elizabet?" 

"You're in danger." 

"We do dangerous work, yes," she can tell he's trying to keep his tone light. 

"En on mil Frichtimen was right. There's something wrong with Constantin, and while he didn't come out and say it directly, he seemed to threaten you specifically. I don't understand, but it's like you're an obstacle to him.” 

Vasco guides her up to the bedroom and closes the door before sitting beside her on the bed. "We know there's a threat and we will be careful, Tempest. This does not change what our next steps are, which are to help defend Hikmet and San  
Matheus." 

"I don't know if you're safer by my side or elsewhere, Love."

"I'll not leave your side, so it is a question we need not ask ourselves."

"But what if...?"

"I trust you. I trust our allies. I am as safe as I can be given the nature of what we do."

"What if I have to..." Vasco wraps his arms around her and pulls her close. 

"I know. I know, Tempest."

"How could I end the life of the cousin I've spent my whole life protecting?"

"En on mil Frichtimen says the power has driven him mad. Think of it as a mercy if it comes to that."

"That doesn't make it easier."

"It doesn't."

"I won't let him hurt you," she says fiercly, crushing her lips against his. He returns her kiss eagerly, and runs a hand along her waist, settling on her breast. 

"Will you allow me to shift your attention elsewhere, Tempest?"

"Please." 


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team saves San Matheus and Hikmet.

"Green Blood, stay back and fire at it; we're going to need you to patch us up once it's down!" 

A chill run down Elizabet's spine as she watches Aphra narrowly dodge a fatal blow. This _nadaig_ is unlike any she's ever fought. It's almost... corrupted, and as a result it hits harder, and its actions are oddly precise. As if it had orders to attack.

But Elizabet has avoided the brunt of the blows. The creature focuses on her allies, giving her the chance to fire round after round at it without retaliation. The carnage on the battlefield is horrifying. Siora is down and has crawled to the edge of the battlefield. Vasco is bleeding from a cut on his hairline, and Kurt looks unsteady on his feet. Kurt is never unsteady on his feet. She turns and looks nervously at Petrus, who meets her eye and gives her an encouraging smile. 

A final well-aimed shot hits it in the jaw and the _nadaig_ falls. She turns to look at Kurt and Vasco, who had been fighting up close. 

"We're fine. Deal with Siora first," Vasco calls out to her. 

"Keep pressure on your head, Love! Kurt, sit down and stay there!" 

"Petrus and I will run to San Matheus and let the guards know the threat has been dealt with."

"Thank you Aphra. We’ll meet you back at the apartment." The two of them take off in a jog towards the city. 

Siora took a direct hit and the slash from its claws runs diagonal down her abdomen. In a way, it's lucky she took the worst blow, because she's already started the process of healing herself. 

"I need to clean it before we do anymore healing," Elizabet says sympathetically as she pulls out the alcohol and a clean cloth from her sidebag. She hisses in pain as Elizabet cleans her wounds, and once she's finished, she casts a healing spell, concentrating first on the internal damage before slowly closing them up. 

"Don't wear yourself out, _Carants_.”

"I won't be able to heal you completely, Siora, but I shouldn't need to stitch you up."

She's had too much practice with field medicine, she thinks, as she realizes just how quickly Siora's injuries are closing. It takes her an hour or so to get them dealt with, and she wraps fresh bandages around her torso. 

"The scabs are delicate and prone to re-opening. You'll have to take it easy for awhile, but," she smiles at Siora, "you're well aware of all of this, aren't you?"

"Yes. Thank you, _Carants_.”

"Stay here until we're ready to leave."

She makes her way over to Kurt and Vasco. Vasco points at Kurt. "He's worse."

"You also have a head wound. Are you dizzy? Do you have a headache?"

"No, and no. It looks worse than it is; I can wait."

Elizabet sits down next to Kurt, and casts a spell to determine what his injuries are. She stops and looks sharply at him. 

"A broken collarbone?"

"You're the doctor, not me."

"You fought with a broken collarbone?"

"Beast needed killing, and you needed me on my feet." 

Elizabet casts a healing spell to fix the break. He's fortunate; it's not a complex break and it should be completely healed in a few days. 

"You're a stubborn arse, Kurt, you know that?"

"A stubborn arse who kept us all alive," he corrects with a wry grin.

"You're not wrong about that. I'm unsure what we would have done without you."

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Vasco going through her bag to grab the alcohol and a cloth to clean himself up. 

"I've done as much as I can. No heavy lifting for a few days, and take it easy," Elizabet says as she fashions a sling out of a shirt in her bag. 

"What would we all do without you, Green Blood?"

"You'd all be bleeding and feeling far worse than you are right now." 

She turns to Vasco. He was right; the cut is not a serious one, but she still checks him over to make sure he doesn't have a concussion. 

"Convinced I'm not on my death bed, Tempest?" 

"You'll live. I can heal this fairly quickly."

Vasco grips her wrist gently, stopping her. "How are you feeling? Do you have the energy to do it after tending to Siora and Kurt?"

She's tired. Really damn tired. He notices her hesitation. 

"Stitch it and heal it in the morning after you've had some rest."

"Vasco, I can manage..." 

"Not if you had to stop and think for that long. It can wait until the morning."

"It's going to hurt like hell," she warns. 

He smirks at her. "This isn't my first time."

He takes a swig from the bottle of alcohol before she gets to work. This injury is far less complicated than his shoulder, and she's able to stitch it relatively quickly. Vasco winces occasionally, but he's in good spirits.

"I'm a lucky man, to have a healer by my side. Especially one as lovely as you."

He’s said this before, but he looks at her so endearingly that it makes her smile. "You're sweet talking me as I sew you up?" 

"It's been a stressful day. Thought you could use the reminder." 

"You're not getting laid tonight." 

“I'm well aware. My performance would be unsatisfactory at best anyway."

"Can we put a pause on the sex talk?" Kurt grumbles beside them. 

"The man with the broken collarbone is cranky. Can you do anything to fix his personality?”

"He's always cranky," Elizabet says fondly. 

“Your captain will figure that out one day,” Kurt says as he moves his arm and winces.

She finishes up, and wraps a bandage around his head, giving him a kiss once she's finished. 

"Was that medicinal?"

"Oh, absolutely. The most important treatment, in fact." 

The three of them walk over to where Siora is lying down. "How are you doing?" 

"I will endure."

"I'll carry her back to the apartment," Vasco says as he bends down to pick her up.

It's a slow walk back to San Matheus, as they fight past the exhaustion that has crept into their bones. The sun has set by the time Elizabet unlocks the door to the apartment. Vasco walks past them with Siora to get her settled in bed, and she hears Kurt mutter something about taking a bath. Petrus and Aphra are in the sitting room. 

"Were either of you injured at all?" 

"Just bruises, my child." 

"The creature wasn't able to hit me, De Sardet."

Vasco returns and sits down next to Elizabet. 

"The attack on Hikmet will almost certainly be similar. We will have to fight another of those corrupted creatures," Vasco says as he rubs his eyes. 

"It looked as if they were infected with the malichor. But how is that possible?" Aphra asks. 

Elizabet had noticed this as well, and the implications of such a thing were not good. 

"It means I need to talk to Constantin when we finish rescuing Hikmet."

"We've learned from the fight in San Matheus; the next battle should not be as arduous."

"Awfully easy to be optimistic when you didn't get the shit kicked out of you, Bishop," Vasco's gaze turns to Elizabet. "We should bring more health potions to the next fight. With your combat magic, we'll be able to bring it down more quickly, giving it fewer chances to strike." 

"At greater risk to yourselves," she argues. "I can heal injuries after the fact if I'm not over-exerting myself during the battle."

"The sailor is right," Aphra says, "It hit hard and could have easily killed one of us. The best strategy is to kill it quickly."

"It was not striking at you, my child. That gives you an advantage against it, assuming the one in Hikmet has been given the same orders." Vasco and Aphra nod in agreement. 

"We won't have Siora, and if I have my way, we won't have Kurt either. It'll be the four of us. Our strategy must be solid."

"I'll take Kurt's role," Vasco offers, "I may not take a hit like the big guy, but I won't give it a chance to strike at me."

"I will move in close as well. Unlike you, Sailor, I wear heavy armour."

"Not that there's much to protect in your head," Aphra mutters. 

"Pardon, Aphra? I thought I heard a comment aimed at myself. I can sit back and watch the city burn if you would prefer."

"Can you please just get along for a few days? I'll charge at the beast myself if you don't shut up," Elizabet moans.

"Apologies, De Sardet."

"I will endeavor to remain civil as long as my colleague is as well."

It's the best she's going to get from them. She circles back to the topic at hand. 

"That leaves you and I at range, Aphra. How far can you toss a grenade?"

"Pretty damn far."

"I'll focus on combat magic, and can cast restoration spells from afar if necessary."

"Looks like we've got ourselves a plan. Leave in the morning, De Sardet?"

"As soon as I've healed the cut on Vasco’s head and convinced Kurt to sit the fight out we'll go."

***

"You pay me to protect you, Green Blood, and I can't do that if I'm stuck in bloody San Matheus!" 

"Kurt, we have a plan. You aren't going to have full range of motion by the time we arrive in Hikmet, and I will not risk you hurting yourself worse. Stay here, and when Siora is ready to travel, meet us back in New Sérène."

"I will be fine to fight!"

Elizabet sighs. "Remember two weeks ago when you and Vasco were firm about not leaving me alone at the mouth of that cave, to the point where you left to 'scout', only to return with the crown? This is that situation, except I'm the one telling you to sit it out."

It's a strong point and finally he relents. "I'll stay. But none of you better get yourselves killed while I'm on my ass." 

***

The four of them are hidden from the corrupted nadaig near Hikmet. They had met the clan the guardian protects, and had promised to investigate why beasts were suddenly attacking their camp, though, admittedly, she knew the cause already. 

"Plenty of open space around here, and far enough away from the camp. We should engage it here," Vasco says quietly. 

"Remember our strategy, everyone. Kill it quickly, and please do not get hurt because I am unlikely to have the energy to do much in the way of healing after the fight."

"I'll make sure the bishop doesn't get fried," Aphra says. 

"And I will keep the creature from rushing our Bridge Alliance friend."

"Aww, you said friend. I've grown on you, Bishop!"

"Like a tumour."

Elizabet rolls her eyes. "Now that you've bickered, let's get on with it." 

It's been some time since Elizabet has solely used magic in combat. The increasing danger of the fights they've faced has meant more often than not she's casting minor spells, speeding her steps magically and firing at enemies; saving her energy to patch the team and herself up after battle. 

It fires bolts of electricity at the other members of the team. Like the previous fight, it generally ignores her, allowing Elizabet to cast stasis spells, giving the team a chance to get out of harm's way and strike. 

"Shoot your own lightning at it, Tempest!" 

It's still frozen in place. A storm takes a few moments to prepare so she focuses, aiming directly at the _nadaig_. Just as it breaks free from her previous spell, she casts, trapping it in an artificial storm. The acrid smell of burning flesh fills the air, yet it seems unphased by the hard blow it has just endured. It hurt it, to be sure, but it's like it no longer feels anything in the way of pain. 

The only thing that matters is whatever orders the guardian was given by its corrupter. 

Petrus casts a powerful spell - one of his own design, she believes, but it's Aphra who makes the killing blow with a well-aimed grenade. 

"Is anyone injured?" 

"Just Petrus' pride," Aphra quips. 

"I believe you only made the final blow as a direct result of the spell I had cast beforehand."

"Petrus and Aphra are fine, then," Vasco says, "I have nothing more that aches and bruises."

"I can try healing you?"

"No need. Though I won't refuse any offers of non-magical remedies later," he says, giving her a wink. 

Because things can never be easy, she has a bit of a diplomatic mess to clean up when she discovers the Bridge Alliance scouts followed her to the hidden camp. The clan is understandably angry, and Elizabet is just barely able to avoid further bloodshed by having the scouts swear to keep the location of the camp hidden. 

"Back to Hikmet to check in on it and get some rest before heading to New Sérène to meet up with Siora and Kurt?"

"Sounds like a plan, De Sardet. There is little I wouldn't do to soak in the tub right now."

"How about be nice to Father Petrus?"

"That I won't do."


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A difficult fight requiring drastic action puts Elizabet in a dangerous situation.

“Hold them back, but do not kill her for anything in the world.” 

“Constantin!” She starts to run after him only to be blocked by the nadaig, who proceeds to attack on his orders. 

It avoids attacking Elizabet directly, just as the ones near San Matheus and Hikmet did. This means the brunt of the attacks fall on Kurt and Vasco. They didn’t head out that night ready for a fight; simply to spy on Constantin. It’s a fight that is technically winnable, but requires drastic actions to avoid fatalities. 

So Elizabet does the one thing she can think of to save her friend and her love: she dives in front of the attacks aimed at them. The _nadaig_ stops short of hitting her much of the time, following its orders to the letter. 

“What are you doing, Elizabet?” Vasco shouts desperately at her as he fires at the beast. 

“Saving your lives! It won’t attack me directly but it’ll kill you two!” 

“No, it was ordered not to kill you Green Blood. But it will beat the shit out of you!”

“I’ll take a beating if it means you two live. It’s my choice; let me do this for you!” She runs and rolls in front of Kurt, and the _nadaig_ isn’t quite able to stop its blow and she’s sent flying through the air, landing against a stone column, forcing the breath out of her lungs. 

But she doesn’t have time to recover. The _nadaig_ turns and is moving towards Vasco. Elizabet casts a stasis spell to buy herself some time, and fires a few shots at it as she runs towards her love. As it is distracted, Kurt hacks away at it, trying to break off its armour. 

“Shoot it, Love; I’ll keep it off you!” Elizabet stands in front of Vasco and spreads her arms wide, readying a spell in her hands. 

And so it goes, on and on, as the three of them slowly whittle down the corrupted guardian. When it targets Kurt, she runs to cover him and when Vasco is threatened she rushes to him. The _nadaig_ grows wise to her strategy and starts to focus on non-lethal attacks meant to send her flying. She dodges most of them by speeding her steps magically, but when they meet their mark she is knocked against the stone columns. 

The last time it throws her she hears the sound of her ribs cracking as she hits the stone. Despite the adrenaline coursing through her, it hurts and she cannot breathe deeply. 

“Vasco spent a whole day working on a ship with cracked ribs, get up and protect them,” she tells herself angrily, and by sheer force of will pushes herself up and runs towards them, casting another stasis spell. 

“Kurt, finish it off,” Vasco shouts as he fires shot after shot into it. Kurt thrusts his sword deep into the beast, running it through, ending the fight.

“Tempest!” Vasco sprints towards her and she collapses into his arms. He holds her against him. 

“Not too tightly Love,” she murmurs into his chest. Kurt is by their side shortly. 

“That was foolish, Green Blood.” 

“It would have killed you,” she says weakly. 

“Not necessarily,” he looks at Vasco, “Sailor, can you say something to her? She actually listens to you.” 

“It was her choice, and we were not prepared for that fight. As much as I wish she hadn’t had to do that the _nadaig_ would have killed us and taken her to Constantin.”

“He’s gone mad...” the voice of En on mil Frichtimen rings out around them. 

“I don’t understand...”

“What he wants - strength, eternity... power. It’s what they all want. Those who take without looking beyond themselves.”

With great effort she stands up straight. “He wasn’t like that! He couldn’t care less about any of that!”

“Then it is his sickness. The brevity of his existence that terrified him to the point where he changed who he is. You must stop him. Each time he bonds he destroys me a little more and with me the hope for a cure. You must kill him.”

No. No no no. She can’t kill him. 

“There must be another way,” she cries. 

“Believe me... there is no other solution.”

It’s a cruel bargain. Her cousin sacrificed for the sake of the world. She gulps. “We must find out more if we are to stop him.” Elizabet forces her voice to remain steady. Playing the role of diplomat instead of cousin. 

“He has a personal guard and he’s bound to have warned them against us after what happened,” Vasco says. 

“You’re right. We will need to be careful.”

“And we will need an army. Alone against all of those creatures we will be no match for them.” 

“It sounds like we need to go recruiting, Green Blood. You should speak to Sieglinde.”

“And Admiral Cabral.”

“Dunncas too. The Cardinal... Governor Burhan...” 

Her legs are shaking and her chest aches. Vasco wraps an arm around her to steady her.

“You need a healer, Elizabet.”

“I am the healer, Vasco.”

“You’re in no shape to heal yourself, Green Blood.” 

“Let me carry you and we will find a place to set up camp for the rest of the night.”

“Once you two are settled somewhere safe I’ll run to New Sérène. The rest of the team will need to know what is going on, and I can bring them back to the camp.” 

“Thank you both.”

Vasco’s gentle, but her body protests as he lifts her and she can’t quite stifle her pained moans.

“I’m sorry. Let me know if you need us to stop.”

She resolves not to say anything. They need to escape to safety. Every breath hurts, and her back and torso ache. 

“What will you need from the apartment to aid your recovery, Green Blood?”

“In the cabinet are sleeping, healing and pain relieving potions. They’re all labelled. I am hoping I will have the energy to heal myself in the morning and that I won’t need them.” 

“We’ll see how you are feeling in the morning,” Vasco says. 

Elizabet drifts in and out of consciousness as Vasco and Kurt hike in search of a secluded place to camp. When she wakes up, she is lying on the ground with her head on Vasco’s lap. A small fire burns nearby. 

“Was I out long?”

“An hour and a half or so. Kurt just left. Do you have anything with you that will make you more comfortable until Siora arrives?” 

“I need to take off my coat. It’s too tight and I can’t breathe.” She gasps shallowly and her head spins. 

Wordlessly, he unbuttons her coat and slowly helps her out of it, one arm at a time. Every movement is agony, so he moves slowly to avoid jostling her too much. 

It is at this moment that the fog in her head clears and she remembers that internal injuries can be fatal and that she may be in worse shape than she thinks. She needs to examine herself - now. 

“Can you lift my shirt and tell me what my back looks like? Specifically if there are any lumps?”

“Lumps?”

“Protruding bone.” 

Vasco grimaces and nods, carefully moving her closer to the fire and helping her sit up before lifting up the hem of her shirt. 

“You’re black and blue over your entire torso, including your back but no bones are sticking out.”

“Hand me a magic potion?” 

“Elizabet...”

“I need to check to make sure there’s no serious damage internally,” she says firmly. 

His face falls. “And if there is?”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we need to.” 

He looks through her bag and finds a potion, and holds it to her lips, helping her drink it. A rush of energy flows through her body and she concentrates, checking herself over for anything that will kill her before morning. 

Most of her internal organs are bruised and there are a few lacerations from the multiple blunt force traumas she endured. She shouldn’t be surprised, but it is the sort of injury she should be addressing before morning. In the back of her mind she knows the danger she’s in but she refuses to acknowledge it. Panic will not help her; she needs to be calm and detached. Just another patching up job after a fight, that’s all. 

“Love,” she says, trying her best to sound calm, “pull out every magic potion we have and when I tell you, tilt them into my mouth.” 

He looks panicked in a way she’s never seen him before but he does as she asks without saying a word. Elizabet concentrates and slowly works to heal the internal damage done to her body. 

“Vasco.” He immediately lifts a fresh bottle to her lips and she drinks. A new wave of energy courses through her and she pushes all of it into her spell. 

The sun is beginning to rise by the time she’s comfortable the rest of her injuries can wait, and she’s gone through eight potions - more than she’s ever taken at once before. Her hands are shaking almost uncontrollably, her heart is palpitating, and Vasco, noticing how dizzy she is, had helped her lie down at least an hour ago. 

She’s definitely overdosed but the side effects she’s feeling are uncomfortable and not fatal. Given how every inch of her body is still protesting the events of their night, despite hours of healing, some more discomfort means little. 

Elizabet catches Vasco’s eyes. He is sitting next to her, with her side bag on his lap, ready to do whatever she needs. Over the course of the night he’s been quiet, only speaking to affirm her requests. Otherwise he’s let her work. 

“Am I going to lose you?” He asks as he takes her hand in his. She squeezes his hand as strongly as she is able.

“No, I’ll just be in a lot of pain until Siora arrives,” she says, trying her best to sound light and reassuring. 

“You should try to get some sleep.”

“So should you Vasco.”

“I need to keep watch. If something comes by or we’re spotted... you can’t defend yourself.” 

“Love, you and Kurt chose this spot specifically because it was safe. Please get some rest? It would be nice to have you next to me.” 

He carefully lies down next to her. She holds his hand, but otherwise he is not touching her. Her eyes close and she’s close to drifting off when she hears a muffled whimper. Looking over at Vasco she sees a tear rolling down his cheek as he tries to remain quiet, presumably an effort to avoid waking her. 

“You’re still stuck with me Vasco,” she tells him. 

He smiles weakly at her and sniffles before speaking. “I never thought I could feel fear like that. I sailed through a hurricane and that was nothing compared to the thought of living the rest of my life without you by my side.” 

“I’m sorry. I know that fear. It was the fear that drove me to run in front of you. And Kurt. I refused to watch you two die. Not when I could do something about it.”

“You will get well, right?”

“In time. I expect I’ll have to send some of you out in my stead to speak to our allies. If I’m to lead an army, I probably should take the time I need to recover,” she laughs at herself and then coughs, crying out in pain and Vasco bunches up her coat and holds it against her chest. 

“You remembered.”

“How could I forget your strange healing methods from that night? It’s the first night we ever spent together.”

“Does it really count if I was sleeping in a chair next to your bed?”

“Aye. For me it does.”

“You asked me to sleep next to you. I wanted to so badly but you were high as a kite when you asked.”

“I have no memory of this. But I longed for you, Elizabet. For weeks I had wanted you asleep by my side.”

She tries to lift his hand to her lips to kiss it, but the movement hurts too much. Instead, he moves his hand over her lips, allowing her to kiss it. 

“We make a good team, Love.” 

“We do.” He leans over to kiss her on the cheek before they both close their eyes in an attempt to get some much-needed sleep. 

The tingling of Siora’s healing magic wakes her. From what she can tell, the sun is high in the sky, so it is likely late morning. Kurt sees that she’s awake and holds a water skin to her lips and helps her drink. 

“Have you been here long?” 

“‘Bout two hours, Green Blood. You and your man were out cold. He woke just before you and I’ve sent him to clean himself up.”

“Your injuries are severe, _Carants_ ; I will not be able to fix everything.” 

“I imagine Kurt told you the full story? I can do more on myself later today.”

“Absolutely not. You have exhausted yourself! When I’ve done what I can, I will give you healing and sleeping potions so you can rest and recover!”

“Then gather the team around; we have an army to gather.” 

“I’ve already talked to them, Tempest,” Vasco says as he walks towards her, hair damp from washing in the nearby creek. “Aphra is headed to Hikmet, and Petrus to San Matheus as we speak. I will talk to Admiral Cabral and Kurt to Commander Sieglinde. Siora will remain with you until you two are confident you can be alone and then she will go to Dunncas.”

“He will know what has to be done to minimize the harm Constantin will cause before we are able to confront him and his army of creatures.” 

“I will do whatever he recommends, _Carants_.”

Something hits Elizabet at that moment. The sheer gall of their plan. On the continent she would be decried as a madwoman for trying to unite the different nations and guilds to work together towards a common goal. But here, it doesn’t seem odd. Tír Fradí is different and maybe if everyone can see how well they work together, they will be more inclined to do so going forward. 

“It sounds like we have the building blocks in place for an army.”

“We will win,” Siora says with conviction, “there must be no other result.” 

Optimism; something much needed right now. But it doesn’t escape Elizabet that in order for them to win, Constantin must die. And she will have to be the one to do it. 

***

Elizabet dislikes stillness at the best of times, but when she's having to plan an assault against her beloved cousin in order to save the world the stillness required of her is unbearable. It's been four days since the fight that nearly killed her, and only now has Siora proclaimed that she can manage her own recovery, which means they can leave their camp out in the woods. Siora has just left to meet with Dunncas, leaving her with Vasco and Kurt.

She needs more time to recover before leading the army they’re building and based on their most recent information, the battle will likely occur in three weeks' time. 

Elizabet would never recommend anyone go into battle three weeks after being injured as she was. But it's not like she has a choice. The factions are allying with her specifically, and the leader of this alliance can't just stay home while people fight, and possibly die for the cause she is championing. 

Guards in New Sérène are on the hunt for them, so they cannot stay at the apartment. Elizabet had suggested they journey to San Matheus and she could recover there, but Vasco shot that down immediately. 

"You are not well enough to travel that distance. We need to get you to New Sérène."

"What would you recommend, then, since the apartment is off limits?" 

"We should go and speak with the admiral." 

Vasco carries her much of the way back to New Sérène. They enter the city near the port, and she walks slowly with Vasco and Kurt on either side of her, discreetly offering their arms as support. 

She can hardly walk without assistance, and even the short stroll to the port has left her winded. The three of them stop just outside the admiral's office to give her a chance to catch her breath. 

"This isn't good, Green Blood. Constantin trusts me; allow me to be the one to handle him."

Elizabet shakes her head. "No. It has to be me. I'm the one he ordered his beasts to spare so I'm the only one able to get close enough to him to do it. I will be fine."

Kurt and Vasco look at one another before deciding to drop the matter for now. 

"We should speak to the admiral.” The sooner they talk to her, the sooner she can begin to figure out where they’ll hide for the next few weeks.

The three of them walk into her office to find her sitting at her desk. She looks up at the three of them.

"Captain, it's nice to see you," she turns her focus to Elizabet, "If I may say, you've seen better days." 

"It's a long story, Admiral. We've come to discuss an alliance. The Governor of New Sérène - my cousin, was quite ill with the malichor. He was bonded to the island, which cured him, but the power has driven him mad. Now he seeks to grow his power, threatening not only the island, but the continent as well. My team cannot defeat his army of creatures on our own, so I've come to ask for the aid of the Nauts." 

"You do understand that your politics do not concern us?"

"Respectfully, in this instance, they do. If Constantin wins, there will be no more ports for your ships to make berth."

"It's a good argument,” she pauses, considering the situation. “Our people aren't used to fighting on land, but we will join your cause.”

"I've killed my fair share of the creatures; I'll give them a rundown before the battle," Vasco says.

"Thank you."

"Admiral Cabral, there's one more thing," Vasco says, taking Elizabet's hand, "the governor's guards are searching for us. Were circumstances different, we could simply leave for San Matheus or Hikmet, but..." he gestures at Elizabet, "we cannot risk traveling until it is time to fight."

"You are looking for a place for you and De Sardet to stay?"

"Kurt as well."

"And what will happen when the guards notice our people harbouring three fugitives?" 

"They won't," Vasco says firmly, "Kurt will secure an alliance with the Coin Guard, and then we will stay hidden until it is time to fight."

"There's a spare room with a bed in my cabin. And a couch. I suspect you and De Sardet will not be opposed to sharing a bed?"

While she's never explicitly mentioned her relationship to Vasco to the admiral, they were rather obvious about it. 

"We will not. Thank you, once again, for your help."

It's a small cabin, and with four people it will be cramped, but they will manage. Vasco helps Elizabet sit on the couch before moving to the kitchen to boil some water for tea. 

"I'll head off to speak with Sieglinde. I should be back in a few hours."

"Be careful Kurt. Please don't get spotted," Elizabet says, fidgeting nervously with a loose string on the couch.

"No need to worry about me. You're the one they are interested in grabbing, so keep your head down and rest." 

Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't have the energy to stroll around the city. The exertions of the day have already taken a toll on her, so after a cup of tea she asks Vasco to help her to bed. 

***

Elizabet wakes up hours later to the sound of Kurt and Vasco talking outside her door. 

"You do realize she won't have the stamina to fight, Sailor."

"I'm well aware, Kurt. We can't exactly keep her off the battlefield, can we? Like she said, the alliance we're building is under her orders."

"We can keep them off her as much as we can. Let her save her energy for her cousin." 

"I can hear you two talking about me," she says through the door.

The door opens. Vasco enters the bedroom looking apologetic. "We're worried, is all."

Elizabet sighs. "I know. I'm not angry, just frustrated at this whole damned situation. And sad. So very sad. I love him so much, despite his actions. Is that wrong of me?"

Vasco sits beside her. "No. You've known him your whole life. To reconcile the cousin you grew up with and the man he's become now would be near impossible." 

"He's always felt like an extension of me. I was his protector. The responsible one. When left to his own devices he gets himself kidnapped and I'm the one who tracks him down," she says, remembering the day of their departure from Sérène. "That man would hate what he is now." 

"Would the man you grew up with begrudge you for putting him out of his misery?" 

She can’t answer that. Can’t consider how he would feel. Not now. "When his illness was at its worst every day I visited him I was afraid he would make that request of me. And that I would do it, because the thought of him suffering and dying a slow death was unbearable to me."

"I'll be by your side as long as I can be when the battle comes, Tempest. Kurt too." 

Elizabet grabs a handkerchief from the side table and blows her nose. "I know. Can we speak of nicer things? I think I have the energy to come out and sit with you." 

"I can help you dress." 

"Can I borrow one of your shirts? They hurt less." 

Her tight fitting blouses put too much pressure on her aching chest and make it hard to breathe. Vasco’s clothes fit much looser on her smaller frame. 

"You may. The admiral is home, however."

"Is she still dressed properly?"

Vasco laughs. "Of course not."

"Well then she will have the privilege of seeing me looking entirely unprepared to go about my duties."

Vasco brushes her hair for her, and helps her slip one of his white shirts over her head. In the mirror she can see the bruises that still cover her torso and back are visible through the thin fabric of the shirt, and it is loose and low-cut enough on her that her cleavage is on display. 

But she's not going to a ball, she's sitting with her partner, the man who may as well be a brother to her at this point and the admiral. And her injuries could have killed her the other day; she’s earned the right to look messy for a few days. She pulls on a pair of breeches with Vasco’s assistance and together they head into the other room. 

As Vasco had promised, the admiral is dressed almost as comfortably as she is, so she does not feel out of place among the group. The admiral stands up and offers her a spot on the couch. 

"No, Admiral Cabral, please don't trouble yourself; I can stand."

Kurt snorts dismissively. “No you can't."

Ignoring her, the admiral drags a chair over from the dining table and sits. Elizabet gives in and sits down next to Kurt, and Vasco settles on the ground between her legs. She runs her fingers through his hair absentmindedly. 

"I must admit that I'd never thought I'd be offering a place for the Legate, her master of arms, and you to hide, Vasco."

"We will try to stay out of your way, and apologize for the intrusion," Elizabet says quickly. 

"Keeping you on your toes is one thing I'm good at, Admiral." 

"That you are. You've got your hands full with him, De Sardet."

"I enjoy having him around. He's good company."

"An understatement if I've ever heard one. I've overheard enough of you two enjoying one another's company for a lifetime," Kurt says, reminding her of their conversation months ago about soundproofing. She never did get around to soundproofing the apartments.

Elizabet's cheeks burn and she turns, panicked, over to catch the eye of admiral, who simply looks amused. 

"I am pleased my decision to send Vasco with you has been fruitful for you two. Though I suspected it would be, given the way you were kissing on the deck." 

"You...saw...that?" Elizabet sputters. 

"Of course I did. I've never seen one of our passengers look as sad to leave port as you were. Though I expect I've lost the most talented sailor of his generation as a result."

"I will sail again, Admiral."

"How will you manage the separation? It strains many relationships between us and outsiders."

"Wherever Vasco goes, I go."

The admiral raises her eyebrow. "Vasco mentioned to me that you heal."

"Yes, though my current predicament does not speak well to my abilities." 

"On the contrary, De Sardet, that you are still moving, let alone breathing speaks highly of your skill."

She looks down to see Vasco looking back at her, eyes wide with fear. The fact that her injuries were near fatal is something they both know, but it is a topic that has been carefully avoided until now. She rubs his shoulders. "I'm here, Love."

"You would have a place in our family by his side," the admiral continues, "sailing is a dangerous way of life, and a good physician is in high demand. You would not be bored." 

"No, Vasco and his crew would keep me busy, I expect." 

It's difficult to be stuck indoors, not only out of necessity but as part of her recovery, but she makes the best of it. She stays up many nights, early into the morning, drafting a battle plan to minimize casualties. The admiral finds her working one morning, aided by the hovering ball of light she conjured hours earlier when the candle she was using extinguished. 

"You are up early, De Sardet." 

"Up late, actually. I have not gone to bed yet."

The admiral walks into the kitchen, lights the stove and puts the kettle on. "Vasco always enjoyed the night as well. It was almost impossible to get him to settle into bed at a decent hour when he was young. Nearly drove the other sailors mad."

"That's how we got to know one another. I was singing late at night and he approached me. We would meet and talk late into the night. I'm not sure how he managed on so little sleep because he was up early every morning."

"You sing?"

"I do. Though I haven't in some time. Running around an island solving problems and urging people to get along leaves little time for such hobbies. What was he like as a child?"

"Smart, driven, ambitious, but also angry. He was always very aware that he had been given to us and that his life could have been different. He threw himself into his work but it was easy to see the bitterness."

"He once told me you taught him how to throw a punch."

"I'm sure he failed to mention that it was because I was sick of seeing him get beaten up by another boy."

"No, he did tell me that. And that you taught him how to dodge and strike without relying on brute force. He's a good fighter and saved the lives of myself and the rest of the team numerous times."

"He's happy with you," the admiral says simply. "There's a lightness to him I've never seen before, despite being away from the sea."

"He makes me very happy too."

"If you'll allow me to say it, your joy is quite obvious," she tilts her head toward the bedroom, "you should go to bed. Your battle plan can wait until this afternoon." 

"Is that an order, Admiral?" Elizabet says lightly. 

"No, but I will wake Vasco and have him drag you off to bed." 

Elizabet laughs. "Well played. Thanks for the chat."

As she lies down next to Vasco, he stirs and moves closer to her, placing a hand on her hip. She's received confirmation that every faction has agreed to offer their support, and that in a week's time they will need to be at the heart of the island, ready to defend it against Constantin. 

The bruises and broken bones have healed, hastened by her magic. Her body still aches, but it is a manageable ache, and when pushed she can move as she always has. But she's still exhausted. There hasn't been a day yet where she's been able to avoid napping in the afternoon or evening. 

She's never almost died before, but Vasco tells her how she's feeling is normal. He’s been closer to death than she was more than once in his life and knows intimately the experience of dragging oneself back from the brink of eternal nothingness. 

Her stomach twists unpleasantly when she thinks of how experienced he is with what she’s feeling now. How casually he explains what to expect to her. But he knows what she needs and perfectly anticipates what to do before she has to ask. 

She closes her eyes. One more week to recover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing I’ve wanted to show over the course of the story is how Elizabet’s skills have developed. In the beginning she couldn’t completely heal a pair of cracked ribs but practice and proper training has resulted in her having the skill to save her own life after taking a horrific beating at the hand of the nadaig under Constantin’s control.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promises are made on the eve of battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief NSFW in this chapter. 
> 
> If one happens to be searching for music to read this by, “Half of Something Else” by The Airborne Toxic Event is what I listened to as I wrote.

They leave the day after tomorrow. Elizabet has run through the battle strategy to the point where even Kurt has pleaded with her to set it aside until they’re reunited with the rest of the team. She is antsy and ready to leave, but at the same time, she is not ready for the horrible task that awaits her. 

It’s late. Vasco and Elizabet are the only ones up and they’re sitting beside each other on the couch. Today has been the first day that the overwhelming exhaustion she’s been dealing with hasn’t hit her. Her energy is low, but it’s as if she’s turned a corner. If she’s lucky, her body may be nearly normal by the day of the battle. 

Nearly, but not entirely. The rest of the team will have to handle his army; Constantin is her responsibility.

“Would you like to go to the beach?” Vasco asks suddenly. 

“Is it safe? There’s no risk of the guards seeing us, is there?”

“Not this late at night. We’ll be fine, Elizabet.” 

She slips her arm in his. “Lead the way, Love.” 

It’s a full moon and a clear night so they’re illuminated by the moon and the stars as well as the small ball of light Elizabet has floating around them. They don’t bother to put their boots on so they’re walking barefoot. Vasco walks with her over to the beach where he first confessed his feelings for her. He pulls off his shirt and unties his breeches, pulling them and his smalls down. Elizabet looks at him curiously. 

She’s not sure he can see her expression but he knows her enough to explain. “Come for a swim with me?” 

Elizabet unbuttons her shirt and takes her breeches off. “Not too far. I’d hate to drown.” 

“You’re with a Naut, Tempest. I won’t let you drown.” He takes her hand and leads her into the sea. 

It’s a calm, warm night and the water feels refreshing against her skin. She’s wading; Vasco has started swimming ahead of her. His strokes are elegant and his body glides through the water almost effortlessly.

“Swim to me!”

Elizabet is a decent but not exceptional swimmer. She knows enough to survive in the water until rescued but little else. Her movements are choppy; a far cry from Vasco’s finesse and she gives up and stands back up.

“I’m an insult to my birthright!” she laughs.

Vasco swims over to meet her and stands up. The water isn’t deep; going up to Elizabet’s chest and he wraps his arms around her from behind. “When this is all over I’ll teach you to swim properly.”

Elizabet’s face falls a little. She’s afraid - so afraid that she won’t survive what’s coming. That Vasco will have to leave the shore without her by his side. 

“Tempest?” Vasco can feel the tension in her body, apparently. 

“I want that so much,” her voice breaks, “Once the land on the continent begins healing and I’m certain everyone will get along here on the island without me forcing them to, I want to get on a ship with you and see the world. And when we return on shore leave, I don’t want to stay in New Sérène. I want us to stay with _Modryb_ Slàn because she’ll be the only family I will have left besides you and Kurt. But I’m scared, Vasco.”

Elizabet doesn’t have to voice what she’s afraid of because she knows he understands. 

“I’m scared too.” He kisses her neck and pulls her closer, and Elizabet puts her hand on the back of his neck. 

“Look at the stars, Elizabet.” 

The stars are bright in the sky and she sees the constellations he taught her and the incredible band of light Vasco called a galaxy can be seen across the sky. 

“They’re perfect, Love. Thank you for bringing me out here.” 

“Marry me?” Vasco speaks softly, and nervously and the grip of his fingers on her hip tightens just a little. 

Her heart skips a beat. She turns to face him and throws both arms around his neck. “I would love nothing more than to have you as my husband.” He crushes his lips against hers and she can feel him smiling against her and they kiss until their lips are swollen and they’re out of breath.

“We don’t have time for a proper wedding before...” he trails off, “but if you were not opposed...”

“You wish to have a ceremony tomorrow?”

“Yes...with a proper wedding afterwards, of course,” he adds quickly. A realization hits him. “I didn’t get you a ring.”

“And my dowry is back at the apartment. Mother insisted I bring it just in case, even after warning me years ago I’d never marry.” 

“A...dowry?”

“It’s a terrible tradition. Mine is mostly jewels from the continent. Some gold too, I believe.” 

“It wouldn’t feel right accepting that. The very thought of it - I desire only your love and your companionship. Nothing more.” 

“We can find something to do with it together. Donate it so a family may change their fortunes or invest in a Native-owned business that needs funding...make a difference for someone who needs a hand.” 

Vasco takes her hand and puts it over his heart. “I would have our bond inked over my heart, however you would like our story to be told.” 

Elizabet feels his heart beating rapidly against her palm. “My finger prints. So I’m always touching your heart.” 

“Then that is what we will do after the ceremony.” 

“Could I... get your finger prints too? Over my heart?”

“Aye, you can.” 

As they lie in bed together that night, Elizabet starts laughing. The sort of laugh she hasn’t had in months; with tears running down her face and sides aching. 

“What was that about?”

“I just realized that neither of us has anything fancy here so I believe we are to be married in white cotton shirts and black breeches.” 

***

Neither of them sleep much that night. As soon as Vasco hears the Admiral leave her room he gets up to speak with her. She looks surprised to see him up. 

“You and De Sardet did not come in until late; I would not have thought to see you up so early.” 

“Can you marry us? Today?” 

The admiral looks incredulous. “We can’t just send a ship out to sea on a whim; you know that.” 

“Then don’t. Do it on a ship docked in port. Or your office. It doesn’t matter where.” 

She softens. “It means that much to you, that you’d forgo a proper ceremony?”

“We’ll do it properly after. I just...just in case...”

The admiral understands then. “The Pelican would work for a brief ceremony. At noon.” 

Vasco nods. “Thank you.”

Elizabet shoos him out of the bedroom when she wakes up - something about a tradition saying it’s bad luck for him to see her before the wedding. Nauts have their own set of superstitions that are taken very seriously so he doesn’t argue with her. He simply gets dressed in the nicest clothes he has on hand, tells Kurt where he needs to bring her, and heads out. 

Elizabet has pulled off the impossible more than once in the time that he’s known her. Instead of the white shirt and breeches she’d warned him about she’s wearing a low cut red tunic with embroidered golden leaves and branches on the sleeves and collar. Her hair is loose and blowing slightly in the wind as Kurt walks her to him. Kurt kisses her on the cheek before stepping back and taking his place as the witness to the proceedings. 

Vasco can’t take his eyes off her. She leans in close and whispers, “Kurt found the tunic at the market. I asked him to buy something red.” 

He understands then. The red thread from his story. 

Promising to love her for as long as he lives is the easiest promise he’s ever made. The Admiral keeps it brief; a necessity given the nature of it, but she signs the ship log and proclaims them to be married and that is what matters.

Elizabet kisses him and rests her forehead against his. “My husband. My husband. My beautiful, amazing husband. Before I met you I’d given up hope of ever saying those words.” 

“And you are my wife.”

“Say it again.”

“Elizabet De Sardet, I am the luckiest man because you are my wife.” 

At the tattoo parlour Elizabet dips the pads of her fingers in ink and presses them to his chest, creating the outline the artist will follow. The artist recognizes Elizabet. 

“You’re back and I see the captain is making you a part of his history.”

“We got married today,” Elizabet says excitedly. 

“You’ve become an honest man, Captain!” 

“I have.”

“My lady, put any more thought about getting into the chair?” 

Vasco did not think she could possibly look happier but she somehow does. “About that...I was hoping you’d do the same for me. Only his finger prints and not mine.” 

He pauses and looks over at her. “If I may say, my lady, you are a noble of the most rare sort.”

“I’m not a noble, really. My mum was a native kidnapped by my adoptive mother’s brother and I was born on one of your ships. One day I will reclaim my birthright and leave this life behind for good.” 

“A cute story.” 

“It’s true Sam,” Vasco cuts in to save her from having to explain further.

“I found out only recently. It was... a lot to process.”

“We’d be happy to have you home with us, when the time is right.”

Not for the first time today Elizabet’s eyes are swimming with tears. She looks at him and smiles and he takes her hand. 

“It’s beautiful,” she says when Sam finishes. “You do good work.” 

“Still wanting me to do the same for you?” Sam looks a little bashful. “You will need to...well, expose yourself, my lady, given the area you’d like it.” 

Elizabet laughs warmly and unbuttons her tunic without fanfare. “I told you Sam, I’m not a proper noble. And you can call me Elizabet. Or Lizzie, as Vasco’s crew prefers. We are to be quite familiar during this process.” 

Like she did before him, Vasco dips his fingers in ink and places them on her chest. She hardly reacts as Sam works.

“After the beating from that _nadaig_ a few weeks back this is nothing,” she says. 

“How are your energy levels today?” 

“It’s easy to stay awake with all of the excitement today. But I’m doing better. I’m...ready to leave to meet the rest of the team in the morning.” 

He doesn’t want to focus on the battle and the risks and what Elizabet will lose if they win. So he changes the subject. 

“Will we tell them we got married?” 

“Obviously. Can you imagine Petrus’ disappointment that we didn’t have a big society wedding?” 

“When we do have a proper ceremony, how would you like to have it?”

“I believe I once suggested on a ship out at sea at sunset. I’d like that. With _Modryb_ Slàn walking me to you. And all our loved ones there as our guests.” 

“I’ll make sure to actually have a ring for you when we do it.” 

Elizabet looks amused. “We’ve permanently marked our commitment to one another on our bodies. I don’t believe a ring is necessary.” 

“I’ll get you one anyway. So people can see our commitment without getting us half naked.” 

She laughs; the sort of bright and warm laugh that always makes his heart race when it comes from her. “You win.” 

“How often is it that nobles marry someone they actually like, Lizzie?” Sam asks. 

“Rare. Most are arranged as alliances. Partnerships that are mutually beneficial to both families. My adoptive mother had an arranged marriage but they grew to love one another deeply, from what she told me. He died when I was a baby. Frequently love fails to blossom in such marriages and both parties carry on discreet affairs. As long as an heir is produced people look the other way.” 

“And yet you rebelled and married a Naut. A handsome one, but still not a noble.”

“Sam, you flatter me.”

“It was not my first rebellion. I escaped an arranged marriage when I was 18. My adoptive mother’s brother was most displeased. Prince d’Orsay is used to getting his way.” 

“I’ll have to take your word for it. I’ve never heard of him; politics mean nothing to me.” 

“You’re lucky. He’s a monster. My mother protected me as best she could and taught me how to avoid his moods. She even hit him once, on my behalf.” 

Sometimes Elizabet’s life at the palace seems like something written in one of those pulp novels several members of his crew enjoy reading. He can hardly imagine it. “You never told me that, Tempest.” 

“It was after the prince beat me for getting the engagement called off. She confronted him in his own sitting room; the place where he beat the poor souls who’ve annoyed him and hit him in the face.” 

She talks about her uncle beating her so casually, as if they’re discussing the weather. 

“Your youth sounds eventful, Lizzie. We’re almost done here,” Sam says. 

“My mother was a good woman. She hid the truth of my origins from me but the prince would have ordered her to do so. Most noble children in the Congregation are not raised with the tenderness and affection I received from her. I miss her.”

“She is back in Sérène?” 

“No, she is dead. From the malichor. It would have happened shortly after I left for Tír Fradí.” 

“I am sorry for your loss.” 

“I’d have liked to have met her, Elizabet.” 

“If life ever brings us to Sérène when the prince is away I’ll take you to the palace. There’s a portrait of her and I that was done when I was a child. I’d like to see her face again.” 

“All done,” Sam announces. Elizabet stands up and looks in the nearby mirror.

“It’s perfect. Thank you so much.” 

“You’re so beautiful, Elizabet. I am honoured to be part of your story.” 

He holds her close the entire walk back to the cabin. When they return Kurt stands up and announces he’s going to go for a walk and that he will knock loudly before entering the cabin. Vasco takes the hint and they head to the bedroom. 

Their lovemaking is slow and tender, full of soft touches and loving kisses. While gentleness is a necessity, given that Elizabet is still recovering from her injuries, he thinks he would have wanted their wedding night to be like this regardless. She clings to him tightly as he slowly grinds into her wet cunt; concentrating hard to hold back his own rapidly building pleasure. 

“Love I’m close,” she pants and he reaches between them to rub her clit, bringing her to her peak as she cries his name. His thrusts grow erratic as the rhythmic clenching of her cunt pulls him over the edge and he spills inside her with a groan. 

He’s careful not to collapse on top of her, mindful of her injuries. She lifts his arm and rests her head on his shoulder. 

“I just made love to my husband,” she says, a sense of wonder in her voice.

“No regrets? Still pleased to be my wife?” 

A series of soft kisses to his shoulder and a brush of her hand along his torso is all the answer he needs. 

They fall asleep in each other’s arms, unsure of what the upcoming battle will bring, but content that they’ve dedicated their lives to one another. 

***

Elizabet's eyes flutter open to the sight of Vasco rummaging in the bedroom they've called theirs for the last three weeks. She smiles when she realizes she's getting married today. Then she remembers. 

"Vasco, you're not supposed to see me before we marry; it's bad luck!"

She's not sure she believes the superstition but figures given the battle that's coming, they need all the luck they can get. 

"The admiral has agreed to marry us at noon on the Pelican. I'll make sure Kurt knows where you two need to go."

"I can't wait to be your wife." Her eyes are firmly closed; an attempt to keep to the spirit of the tradition.

"And I, your husband." 

The door closes, and she waits until she hears Vasco leave the cabin before heading to talk to Kurt. He's smiling.

"I hear today is your wedding day, Green Blood."

"It is."

"And you couldn't be bothered to tell me your man proposed?" Kurt crosses his arm and tries to look sternly at her, but fails because he's smiling ear-to-ear. 

"Well he didn't propose until late last night and I figured you would probably appreciate not being woken up to hear the good news." 

"This is all coming together quickly, isn't it?"

"We'll have a proper ceremony in front of our loved ones...after, but we just thought...you know..." She fidgets nervously. 

"I get it. I'm happy to you. For both of you." 

"Can I ask a small favour?"

"I could hardly refuse you a favour on the day you get married. What do you need?"

"Something to wear. Can you go to the market and find me something red? A tunic or a skirt, or even just a scarf. I'd go myself but given the circumstances..."

"Constantin's guards on the look out for you, you mean?"

"Yes."

Kurt laughs to himself. "When I took this job all those years ago I never thought I'd be dressing you for your wedding." 

"No offence, but you weren't my first choice of wedding stylist."

Kurt snorts. "I'd be sending for a crow to check you over if I was. I'll see what I can find for you."

Elizabet hands him her coin purse. "Thank you."

He returns an hour later with a red tunic and she goes to the bedroom to try it on. Kurt judged the sizing well; it hugs her curves and falls just above her knees. She walks out to show Kurt. 

"What do you think?"

"That I may have a future as a stylist after all. You look lovely." 

"It's beautiful Kurt. Thank you."

"Why red? It's not a colour you wear frequently." 

"Because of a story Vasco told me once; a proverb about how every person has a red thread connecting them to their soulmate."

"I should have known there would be some soft and romantic reason behind it." 

"Will you walk me down the aisle?"

For as long as she's known him, Kurt has been stoic; easily playing the role of the cold mercenary. She knows he cares for her and has for years even if he's rarely put it into words. But now his eyes shine with what looks to be tears and he turns and coughs and when he looks back at her they're gone. 

"It would be my pleasure to take you to your man."

She wears her hair down and when her and Kurt board the ship and walk towards Vasco, the wind picks up and she feels her hair blowing in the wind for the first time since she was a child. It's a small thing but it's freedom and she smiles and walks towards the rest of her life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having them get married just before the battle worked; after Elizabet’s injuries in the last fight, they’re both terrified one or both of them could die. And getting married means so much to Elizabet - it’s something she was told repeatedly that she would never have so it was important to Vasco to marry her before they rush into a battle that could end up killing them.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet confronts Constantin.

Elizabet stands with the team and outlines the battle plan. 

"I will do my best to assist with his beasts as I make my way to the heart." 

"No," Vasco says quickly, "you're the only one who can get close enough to him. Save your strength."

"Your boyfriend is right," Aphra says.

"Husband."

The team realizes what she said and look at her and Vasco. 

"You have bonded?" Siora asks them excitedly. 

"We have." 

"When did this occur, my child?"

"A few days ago. We'll hold another ceremony afterwards."

"Give you all a chance to celebrate with us. It'll be a good party," Vasco says. 

"I suppose congratulations are in order," Petrus says. “Though you have missed an opportunity to hold a wedding that would have been an event the other nobility spoke fondly of for years to come.” 

Vasco looks mildly nauseous at the thought of a huge society wedding. 

“We do not regret that either of our ceremonies will be intimate affairs, Father.”

Siora pulls them both into a hug. "I am happy to hear you've bonded."

Aphra cuts in, bringing them back to the topic at hand. "While this is all very sweet, don't we have a battle to deal with?"

***

It had been decided that each of her allies would stay with their people and assist in dealing with Constantin's beasts. 

"Vasco, be careful." He nods and she turns to leave. As she's exiting the clearing, he runs to her, pulling her against him and kissing her. 

"Will this be the last time I see you?" 

She cannot know, but raw pain is written on his face and in his voice, and it breaks her heart. 

"I don't know."

He kisses her again and she wishes this moment with him could go on forever. That she could pause time and stay with him. No battles, no danger, no death. 

"Go, Tempest. Come home to me."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Elizabet moves forward, dodging the attacks of the many creatures in her path and trusting that her team and their people are able to handle them as she makes her way to the heart where she will confront Constantin. 

As she runs, she can’t help but remember afternoons chasing each other at the park when they were little. Constantin running away from a shopkeeper after he stole a loaf of bread for a family he saw begging on the street when he was a teenager. Herself running for a carriage to get to the site of his kidnapping so she can rescue him, yet again.

And now she runs so she can bring him to his end. 

He's in the process of gathering more power from En on mil Frichtimen when she reaches him. 

"Constantin!" she shouts.

"Restrain her."

A giant creature - larger than any _nadaig_ they've ever fought previously rushes her. Adrenaline courses through her, pushing away the fatigue she feels. She's alone; to survive long enough to deal with Constantin she will need to fight and move perfectly. Casting a shield on herself, she rolls out of the way, grabs her pistol and shoots. She follows a pattern: dodge, shoot, dodge, reload, dodge, shoot. 

It fights mercilessly, hardly noticing the bullet holes littering its flesh, just like the other creatures under Constantin's control. It's a marathon and not a sprint, and eventually even adrenaline isn't enough to combat her exhaustion. It corners her and prepares to strike.

"I'm sorry Love," she whispers, thinking of her husband in her final seconds before the creature kills her. 

"No! Stop. Step back." Constantin runs in front of her and the creature retreats immediately at his command. She looks incredulously at him. 

This is the first time he’s saved her life. Granted, it was only after he ordered his beast to attack her.

"I do not desire your death. I am sorry."

"Why have you done this?"

She needs answers before doing what she must. 

"For you. So we may finally be free at last."

"Constantin, this is madness," she pleads; a last attempt to convince him to change his course and undo all of the damage he's already caused. 

"You don't understand because you're still attached to the old world. This old, dying world, which, to survive has betrayed, used and manipulated us and wouldn't hesitate to kill us."

"You know I hate that world, and what your father did to me and my mum but this isn't the way to change things!"

"I've seen death, Elizabet, and I understand the vanity of it all. My father's ruses, just so he can earn more power...the political bowing and scraping to preserve corrupted nations! I have been offered unrivalled power to get rid of this. To send the old world back to its inevitable death and build something new with it...something unique! And this new world is my gift to you. You and I could be its new gods. The immortal and benevolent monarchs." The thought horrifies her, but she remains outwardly neutral. 

"All you have to do is bind yourself here with me and we will be gods together forever."

He holds a knife out to her. She nods and he smiles as she takes it from him. She smiles back; a liar's smile. Elizabet approaches Constantin and wraps an arm around him, holding him close before she plunges the dagger into his heart with all of the force she can muster. He stiffens.

"That's a shame..."

"I love you so much Constantin. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you," she weeps as she gently lowers him to the ground. Until he stills and the life leaves his eyes she holds his hand and touches his face. "I'm here, Constantin. I love you," she whispers, unsure if he is capable of hearing her. 

Everything catches up with her at once and her body, still recovering from the trauma of weeks ago, fails and she collapses unconscious on the ground beside her cousin. 

***

Vasco knows they've won when the beasts retreat. Without the order from Constantin, they have no desire to fight. Thanks to his instructions, the Nauts he fought alongside all survived the onslaught of beasts that came at them and he's winded, but uninjured. 

"Go to her, Vasco!" Siora calls, and he doesn't need to be told twice; taking off in a full sprint up to the heart where she confronted her cousin. 

He leaps over the bodies of fallen beasts, past soldiers sitting injured on the ground, and does not stop; not even to check on the rest of the team. He needs to get to her. 

It's a sight that will haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life. Elizabet lying still on the ground next to her cousin. Did they kill each other? 

"Elizabet!" he screams desperately, as he runs to her. He grabs her body and pulls her against him, frantically checking for a pulse when he feels her breath against his hand. She's alive. He lets out a sigh of relief and shakes her gently, trying to rouse her. 

"Wake up, Tempest. Please. It's over and you're safe now."

Her eyes flutter open and she looks at him and smiles for just a second before the impact of what she had to do hits her. She crumples against him and sobs. 

"I had to kill him. He's dead."

There's nothing he can say or do to fix this so he does not try to ease her pain with words. Instead he holds her as she wails and screams, stroking her hair and kissing her temple. Eventually the tears stop and she stares blankly at the body of her cousin. 

"We should get you to camp so you can rest, Tempest." 

She struggles against him, trying to make her way to her cousin's body, but the effort is too much for her and she collapses against him once more. "I can't leave him here."

Kurt arrives and runs over to where they sit. 

"Green Blood, how are you doing?" Elizabet shakes her head and does not answer. 

"Kurt, can you carry Constantin back to the camp?"

There's so much he doesn't say; that his body will need to be prepped for burial, that she will need to decide where he is laid to rest, but Kurt understands.

"I will take care of getting your cousin back to camp, Green Blood."

"Thank you." Her voice is hoarse and flat. 

"Were you injured, Tempest?"

"Not badly. A few rocks hit me, is all."

Vasco is relieved to know that it is mostly exhaustion and grief affecting her. Neither of those things will kill her, as painful as they are. 

"I can carry you to camp." 

He's exhausted himself, but he can manage to get her back to camp. Carefully, he lifts her and she tucks her head into his neck, hiding her puffy eyes and blotchy face. 

"They know what you've lost, Elizabet, do not feel ashamed of your feelings."

"Emotion is weakness and gives them a weapon to be used against me," she says in a monotone, repeating the horrible lessons drilled into her by her uncle and her teachers as a child. At this very moment Vasco wishes he could punch her uncle for making her feel ashamed of her grief, amongst his other cruelties. 

The troops step aside as he walks with her back to the camp. Many bow to her out of respect and gratitude. What she accomplished with this alliance still amazes him; to see troops from Thélème and the Bridge Alliance fighting towards the same goal seemed an impossibility before today. As they pass the Nauts, instead of bowing they cheer and shout her name - not her title but her name, which brings a small smile to her face. He nods at his brothers and sisters before continuing towards their camp. 

They sit in a tent while they wait for Siora to come look her over. He helps her out of her coat, her boots and her underclothes and wraps a blanket around her. She cries no more; instead she stares at the ceiling and does not react to his ministrations. 

She’s fought her way through so much on this island. She’s suffered, she’s lost and then found a new identity, survived a coup and now she’s had to kill her cousin. Understandably her mind has shut down as a defence mechanism. 

He kisses her hands and softly recites the poem he used to tell her he loves her for the first time, just so she knows he’s with her, even if she’s unable to respond. 

Siora gives her a sleeping potion after looking her over, correctly recognizing that there's no way she would be able to fall asleep without it. She may be near catatonic but that doesn’t mean she’ll drift off peacefully. It requires some gentle coaxing from the two of them but she does take it. 

He sits with her until she falls asleep, and then meets with the team to figure out what things will look like in the days to come. 

"It is doubtful she will want a large funeral for him. It will be too much for her to endure," Vasco says, "Better to keep it to us and his advisors." 

"The nobility will want to see a body," Kurt says bluntly. 

"So the - what - hundreds of witnesses here defending the island aren't enough to confirm that he's dead? I am not allowing those ridiculous and barbaric noble protocols hurt my wife!"

"That step may not be necessary. Publicly, it will be announced he died of the malichor. The nobility will understand why a body is not presented in this instance," Petrus says and Vasco finds himself feeling extremely grateful for the man's scheming. 

"Vinbarr was right, in the end. He would poison our soil and cannot be buried."

"What are you suggesting then, Siora?" Kurt snaps. He knew Constantin for years and Vasco can tell he's feeling the loss acutely. 

"A pyre. Isn't that how you deal with victims of the malichor on the continent?" Vasco suggests grimly. 

"It wasn't the malichor that killed him in the end. Why should she compromise the Congregation's burial methods?" Aphra says. 

"Because she didn't just kill the cousin she loves dearly just to watch his corpse poison her people's land!" Several nearby islanders turn in alarm at the sound of his yelling, and he takes a moment to calm himself before speaking again, "Siora, can you determine a few appropriate locations where we could do what needs to be done without imposing or causing offence?"

"I will do that."

"There will need to be a new governor appointed," Petrus says, "and given her heroics, she will almost certainly be the top candidate."

"She's going to hate that," Vasco thinks wearily. 

"I had been under the impression the leadership decisions were made by the prince."

"That is correct, Vasco. But since news of his son's death will not reach the continent for several months, and the response naming a new governor for several more after that, an interim governor must be appointed."

"But if she does not want it; she can decline, yes?" Siora says. 

"She can," Petrus affirms, "but it would be unwise to decline. This alliance came about as a direct result of her actions, and the High King sent people to the continent to help heal the land specifically because of her. If she leaves now, this could all fall apart."

"The bishop is right," Vasco says, hating every word that is coming out of his mouth. "Everything she's built is too fragile. She's needed here for now." 

Kurt claps him on the back, "Well, Sailor, looks like you'll be moving into a palace!" Vasco looks at him, horrified. "Don't look so excited about it, now!"

"There is another matter of importance," Petrus interrupts. "Constantin was the Prince's heir. Now he is without a direct heir, making her next in the line of succession." 

"But she's not even a blood relative," Aphra says.

"A closely guarded secret."

"Not so closely guarded anymore," Vasco says, "she's told a few of my people, and every Native on the island knows her heritage."

"His Highness will likely opt to visit New Serene personally to handle these political matters and prep Lady De Sardet to take on the role of his heir."

Vasco's blood runs cold at that; not just that her uncle, a man who terrifies her, will visit, but that he will force her to become his heir and chain her to the path she desperately wants to deviate from. 

He swears in that moment to do whatever it takes to break her from her uncle's grasp, even if he dies in the process.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Constantin is laid to rest and Elizabet and Vasco receive promotions.

Elizabet wakes up and for a moment she can’t remember where she is. Then she remembers. Constantin is dead. It’s dark still and Vasco lies beside her, asleep. 

She doesn’t want to wake him. The battle yesterday wasn’t just draining on her, and he needs the rest as much as she did. As quietly as she can, she fishes a shirt out of her bag, slips it over her head and pulls on her breeches before grabbing her boots and slipping out of the tent. 

Despite the early hour, there are a few soldiers hovering around a fire. They aren’t from a single faction; she sees Nauts talking to Natives and Coin Guards, and even a few soldiers from Thélème and the Bridge Alliance in the midst of what looks like a poker game. 

She smiles. One of the Nauts notices her. 

“How are you doin’, Lizzie?” 

She walks over and joins him. “Better than yesterday. Are there any injuries I need to assist with?” 

Before he can answer a woman from Thélème speaks up. “There were, but it’s all under control, Your Excellency. The Natives were a great help.” 

If there’s one good thing to come of this tragedy it’s that everyone at the battle has had a chance to work with people they may have once seen as an enemy. Relationships are being built right before her eyes. 

Even so, she’d rather still have Constantin alive and untainted by power and the malichor. She always knew he would die before her. As a child he took dangerous risks, frequently requiring her to leap to his rescue. And as an adult, the realization that he would never make his father happy led him to even more dangerous actions. Like the ones that got him kidnapped the night before the voyage. 

But she never imagined she would be the one to take a knife to him. 

A tear escapes and she wipes it away before plastering on a false smile and visiting with everyone around the fire. As she performs her duty as a diplomat and the leader of this army she cobbled together, she shows no grief and no pain, burying the anxiety and sorrow deep inside her gut. 

Siora suggests a place to lay Constantin to rest. It’s high up a hill, with a view of the coast. She nods, too emotionally drained to say anything else. A note is sent to Lady Morange and Mr. De Courcillon with details of the ceremony to be held in three days’ time. 

Vasco holds her hand as she gives a speech thanking everyone for their courage and teamwork in thwarting the threat to the entire island. She doesn’t remember what she says as she says it; instead she’s too focused on not crying. Emotion is weakness. There is time to mourn later. 

The entire day is a blur of speeches and meetings and conversations. Her allies must adequately see her gratitude and using this opportunity to open talks amongst the faction leaders is crucial. 

She remembers none of it. Petrus or Vasco remain by her side throughout the day. That night Vasco hands her a notebook. 

“The bishop and I took notes during all of your meetings; what they were about, promises that were made - anything you will need to know.” 

“How did you know?” She breaks down at the reminder of her ineptitude. He wraps his arm around her. 

“Because you’ve experienced a terrible loss and nobody expects you to be at your best.”

“You’re wrong. They expect it of me. Emotion is weakness.” 

“The cruelty of the people who taught you that you must be an automaton even in the face of tragedy disgusts me. Fuck anyone who expects that of you.”

“How will I manage as governor, Vasco? I can barely keep my anxiety hidden as legate.”

“They may not select you,” Elizabet knows he doesn’t believe the words as he says them. 

“There’s no doubt they will. We need to talk about it, Love. It’s unfair of me to expect you to put your career aside for me forever while I play politician.” 

Vasco takes her hand. “You’ve built something that has the potential to change the world here. It’s fragile. Right now, you’re needed to protect and nurture it. To ensure the continent accepts the aid Dunncas has sent. In time what you’ve built will become the norm...if you’re around to help it along. And while you do it, you’ll have a damned good Naut captain on hand to sail you wherever you need to go.” 

“Constantin’s father may not want me to remain governor long term,” she says hopefully. 

“And if he decides that then we will leave and you’ll never see him again.” 

“But if he does, it could be several years before things are settled enough for me to walk away...if you wanted to return to the sea I’d understand.” 

“I love you, Tempest and I could not leave you. We have a plan and when the time is right, we will leave. Together.”

Elizabet squeezes his hand and he pulls her close as he lies back. She settles on top of him, resting her head on his chest. 

“Besides, you dislike being at court. You may excel at it, but you won’t be truly content until you’re on my ship patching up my crew.”

“No, I am dreading the appointment to be completely honest. The moment we are able, I intend to abscond away from the palace.” 

***

Elizabet works carefully, chiseling Constantin’s name into the slab of stone. She could have had his advisors bring a tombstone; anyone else would have told her this was unnecessary. But Constantin would have liked hers better. Unpolished and amateurish, but created with love. 

It needs more than just his name. She has another hour before sundown, when the ceremony is set to begin. Slowly and as neatly as she can manage, she chisels below his name. 

“Beloved by his cousin” 

He would have loved it. “A final ‘fuck you’ to my parents,” he would have told her. 

It was Kurt who had showed her how to do this. Initially he had offered to do it for her but she declined. It needed to be her. 

Lady Morange and Mr. De Courcillon arrive. Kurt and Vasco have finished setting up the pyre. Siora, Petrus and Aphra are standing nearby. She greets his advisors politely. 

“We must speak with you regarding the governorship,” Mr. De Courcillon starts. 

She cuts him off. “Not today. Today is about Constantin.” 

She says this firmly enough that neither of them push back on her. 

Kurt carries his body, wrapped in a shroud, to the pyre. Elizabet stands in front of it and speaks. 

“I grew up an only child. But I never felt like one because Constantin was always there. He was more than my cousin. More than my best friend. He was my brother.”

She pauses and wipes her eyes. 

“He was reckless, enthusiastic, fun and he cared so much. He lacked discretion. Frequently he embarrassed me. But never maliciously. Everything he did was because he cared.”

A sob escapes her and she covers her face with the parchment in her hand. 

“Take your time, Tempest,” Vasco says, stepping forward from the crowd slightly. 

She lets herself cry for another minute or so before pulling a handkerchief out of her coat pocket. 

“I lost my place and smudged the ink with my tears, I apologize,” she laughs a little, “Constantin would be laughing at me. He’d have some joke to tell because he knew that if he made me laugh I would stop crying.” 

The parchment is beyond saving so she’s forced to improvise. She places the parchment on the pyre, next to his body.

“Even if I can’t read the words, now he can. Wherever he is now. Constantin knew me better than I know myself. And he could give me wonderful advice. The best advice he ever gave me is the advice that led me to the greatest joy in my life.”

She looks at Vasco who nods at her encouragingly. 

“My husband. On the voyage here to Tír Fradí, Kurt and likely Mr. De Courcillon will be able to tell you how I pined for Vasco. We spent the majority of the voyage getting to know one another. We flirted and danced around our feelings.”

Elizabet laughs a little to herself before looking up at everyone. Lady Morange and Mr. De Courcillon look shocked. She hadn’t told them her and Vasco had married. 

“The morning before the storm hit, I was sitting in his quarters with him. Feeling self-conscious because silly me had convinced myself that because Vasco had not made a move he must not be interested in me romantically. Constantin urged me to make a move myself.”

“I wouldn’t; it would have been inappropriate given my station. And it turns out Vasco felt it would have been inappropriate for him to make a move as well. Sorry, this isn’t relevant to the story.”

Elizabet braces herself for the awkwardness as she gets to the next part of the story. 

“Constantin realized that I wasn’t just despairing over Vasco not sleeping with me. That I wanted more than a quick fuck with the gorgeous captain. Constantin told me I loved him. And he was right. I cried and he comforted me and that realization changed everything. Vasco and I still danced around our feelings for months but now there was intimacy. We fell asleep in one another’s arms. I enjoyed every moment with him without despairing the lack of sex because I knew I had found something I wasn’t ever supposed to have: my _minundhanem_.”

She pauses a little to let her words sink in. It’s the first time she’s spoken out loud the impact Constantin had on her and Vasco’s relationship. A spike of regret hits her; that she never thanked him properly while he was alive.

“I am sure I would have found my way to Vasco on my own but Constantin set it in motion with that conversation.”

“And I miss him. So much. There’ll always be a hole where he was supposed to fit. But I can be happy I had him, even if it was only for 25 years. We’re here to lay him to rest and, because Constantin would have wanted it this way, there’s bottles of liquor and wine over there,” she points to a table Aphra had set up earlier, “and we are going to toast my beloved cousin properly. Now, grab yourselves a drink and let’s do this.” 

She makes her way to the table and pours herself a whiskey and when everyone has a drink in their hands she picks up a torch and lights it. 

“Goodbye, dear Constantin,” she whispers as she lights the pyre. “I will always love you.”

She holds her drink up, toasts him and drinks before moving back towards everyone else. 

“He was nice to me,” Siora breaks the silence. “He understood the importance of building a relationship between our peoples.”

“He was spirited. That was one of my first impressions of him. My next was how much he loved Elizabet. They were attached at the hip and they supported one another.” Vasco raises his glass and then drinks. 

Kurt speaks next. “I first met him as a boy when I was tasked to train him and Green Blood. He was daring, well before he had the skills to back it up. Poor boy ended up on his ass more often than not. But he always stood up. I never gave him an inch and it was a proud day for us both when he bested me for the first time.” 

“I have fond memories of my time at court in Sérène. Frequently I’d watch a young girl and her cousin chase each other around or huddle in the corner gossiping about the other children. In a cruel world they had the wisdom to cling to one another for support; something I was pleased to see continued years later on this island. I am very sorry it ended this way.” 

The group drinks in silence for some time before Aphra speaks. “I never knew Constantin. But De Sardet spoke of him frequently. She never had a bad word to say about him. Like the bishop said, they supported each other. And that’s something special.” 

In the morning Vasco digs a hole and she places his tombstone into the dirt and stands it upright. Now, for centuries to come, those who visit this place will know of Constantin and that he was loved. 

***

To their credit, Lady Morange and Mr. De Courcillon wait until they return to New Sérène to call her to the palace to talk about the governor position. But first, they share their thoughts on her marriage. 

“It is unusual, Lady De Sardet. As something perceived to be an affair, it can be accepted, but to have married him? Do you know his intentions? Is there an agreement in place to safeguard your wealth? I’m unsure why you would not consult us first,” Lady Morange says, attempting to sound concerned. 

She glowers at them and she speaks firmly and coldly. “Who I marry is nobody’s business but mine and my spouse’s. And to accuse my husband of solely being interested in money is despicable! I decided Constantin’s father -“

“Your uncle,” Mr. De Courcillon corrects. 

“Constantin’s father,” she snaps in response. “As I was saying, who I marry was none of his business at my own choosing. If the prince has no place in my marriage bed, then nobody else does, save my spouse. If the nobility cannot accept that their legate is married to a Naut captain then I will be pleased to give you my resignation.” 

“As legate, it matters less. But until your uncle learns of Constantin’s death, you are to be named interim governor and it will be the subject of controversy. It is possible we can hide it; your wedding was small and few know of it,” Mr. De Courcillon says. 

Her cheeks burn with anger. “I will say this once. I. Will. Not. Be. Ashamed. Of. My. Husband!”

Mr. De Courcillon and Lady Morange look at one another. Lady Morange speaks. “We only wish to ease your burden. Being the subject of gossip is terribly difficult.” 

This puts Elizabet over the edge, and the anger she’s so carefully kept hidden these last few days explodes out of her. “Do you think I’ve never been the subject of gossip? That I don’t know intimately what it’s like to be seen as an oddity? My entire life I’ve been looked at as a curiosity at best and a plague-bearer at worst. If they wish to judge me for the man I love, let them. If you feel they will not trust my leadership, then I will decline the position and you have my word that I will never again involve myself in your politics.”

Lady Morange opens her mouth to speak but Elizabet cuts her off. “In fact, let’s get it out into the open. All of Prince d’Orsay’s dark secrets! I’m not my mother’s daughter. My mum is Arelwin; a _doneigad_ from Vignamri. She was kidnapped at the Prince’s behest and I was born on a Naut ship. I’m no pampered noble: I’m a Native and I’m a Naut and I fit in your fucking court no better than my husband does. When Mum couldn’t cure the malichor the prince threw her in a hole blocks away from where I lived in privilege not meant for me and suffered for years before she finally died. So no, d’Orsay is not my fucking uncle. He is a tyrant and I reject any relation to him.” 

They look shocked. Mr. De Courcillon stammers, “We must ensure this information does not leave this room. If your...origins were known widely, it would affect your position.”

“It’s all about politics to you,” she shouts before taking a deep breath. When she speaks it is in a quieter but no less angry tone. “Not the horrific crime committed against my mother and myself. I am willing to be your governor, so long as I’m needed to maintain harmony on the island and ensure the continent is doing what is needed to repair the land and end the malichor. As soon as I am able, I will resign. But know that I will do it my way. I will not hide my husband. If the truth comes out about my origins I will not deny it. If you cannot accept my terms, tell me now, because I will not tolerate being questioned about my personal life again.” 

“Of course we accept, Lady De Sardet,” Lady Morange says gently, “but His Highness may wish to visit when news reaches him of his son’s death and he is less likely to be accommodating of your...personal identifications and associations.” 

“Should he ask for my resignation in response, he will have it.” 

“He may name you his heir, despite the circumstances of your birth.” 

“Mr. De Courcillon, I will not live in Sérène. Should he opt to do so, I will decline most ardently.” 

“What will you do once you resign as governor, Lady De Sardet?” Lady Morange asks. 

“That remains the business of myself and my husband.” And _Modryb_ Slàn, but Elizabet refuses to reveal her identity for fear of giving the nobility a weapon to use against her. She will keep her aunt safe, no matter what. 

“We should prepare a coronation.”

“No coronation,” Elizabet says. “Given the tragedy that has befallen the city, simply make an announcement and I will take my place accordingly.” 

She doesn’t want to deal with the pomp and the ridiculousness of a coronation when she has yet to get through a single day without weeping about her cousin’s death. The knowledge that she’s inherited his position hurts enough. 

“We will arrange for you to begin next week, and will send people to collect yours and your husband’s things from the apartment.” 

“Thank you. Is that all? I wish to return home to my husband.”

***

Admiral Cabral has asked Vasco to meet with her today, so he walks to the port as soon as Elizabet leaves for the palace. She greets him warmly and invites him into her office. 

“How is Lady De Sardet managing? It must have been a terrible loss for her.” 

“As best she can, Admiral. She is meeting with her cousin’s advisors at the palace today.”

“Allow me to be brief. You showed remarkable leadership and bravery at the battle. We had no losses, despite inexperience fighting those creatures. For this, I would like to offer you a promotion to Commander.”

Vasco smiles and looks down at his lap nervously. “I am honoured.”

The Admiral watches as he tries to figure out how to express what he has to say next. 

“But I will have to decline. For now, at least. Elizabet is needed here to keep the peace. The solution to stopping the malichor has only just been discovered. If you were willing to hold the position - for a few years, until she can leave, I would be proud to accept it then.”

“You would not consider taking it now? I could arrange to have you stationed here. It’s possible you may only be at sea six or seven months out of the year.”

“I could not leave without my wife.”

“I am unsurprised by your answer. The position is yours, when you are ready to take it. I’ve heard rumours your wife is to be named the next governor. What will you do in a palace?” 

“Elizabet will need to travel occasionally for work. I would act as captain on those voyages with your permission. Day-to-day, I offer myself up for whatever you need here in port. I’ve no intention of sitting in a palace all day.”

“We’ve started receiving inquiries from some of the natives who fought alongside us. They wish to join us. We could use a talented sailor here in port to teach them before sending them off on their first voyage.”

“Thank you. I look forward to being by the sea once more.”

“And here I thought life on land has been kind to you, Captain?”

He laughs. “Aye, it has. Still, I’ve longed to feel the salt spray on my face, the cries of the gulls and the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. Until Elizabet is able to join us, I will be happy to train my new brothers and sisters.” 

Elizabet’s eyes are puffy and red when she walks into the apartment. Vasco stands up and embraces her and she clings to him. 

“Would you like to talk about it?”

He feels her nod and they sit on the couch. 

“As of next week I’m the governor of New Sérène. Hooray,” she says sarcastically. 

“I would offer my congratulations but I suspect you would have been happier if they’d told you to go away.” 

She laughs bitterly. “I’m so sick of it all. The ridiculous posturing. The expectations! I laid it all out on the table. They know the truth about my origins. I told them that, in no uncertain terms would I even consider hiding our marriage. They accepted this, but only because they know it is necessary I remain here for now to keep things moving in the right direction. People are coming to move our things into the palace next week.” 

“I hope it will not be too embarrassing when I inevitably find myself lost in the palace,” he jokes, trying to make her smile. It doesn’t work.

“At least you have a sense of direction. There are countless rooms I’ve never been in so I’ll be getting lost longer than you’ll be. How was your meeting with the Admiral?”

“She offered me a promotion. To Commander.” 

Elizabet’s face lights up and she grabs his hands. “That is wonderful! Congratulations! I’m so proud of you, Love.” 

“I turned it down.” 

“Why? We could have figured something out.”

“As we talked about the other day - the timing isn’t right. Admiral Cabral has agreed to hold the position until you are able to resign and come with me. Until then, I will be the captain of any voyages you embark on, and will be training new recruits at the port. Apparently a few of the natives who fought in the battle have expressed interest in volunteering.” 

“I am pleased you will be able to take the position when we are ready to leave Tír Fradí. And that you won’t be bored in the palace all day. You’re a good teacher. The lessons you taught me have kept me alive here on the island.” 

“And you will be a good governor. You excel at politics, Elizabet and you will do great things, not just for the Congregation but for everyone on the island.”

“I’m glad someone has faith in me. I got the sense Lady Morange and Mr. De Courcillon were most displeased with my unwillingness to hide things they feel the nobility may find distasteful.” 

“Keep them on their toes. You’ve a good head and a kind heart, and New Sérène is in excellent hands.”

“I expect they’ll want a portrait done of me. It’s tradition that one’s spouse is included in the portrait...”

“You cannot be serious.”

“Completely. My handsome husband is to be gracing the walls of the palace at my side for generations to come.” 

“Do make sure the artist gets my tattoos right.” 

“Oh, don’t worry. I have experience in these matters. Back in Sérène artists frequently tried to avoid painting my mark. I will make sure our portrait is an accurate rendition.”

“Don’t tell any of the Nauts about this. I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

Elizabet laughs warmly. “It’ll be our secret. I promise.”


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Portraits and a second wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Vasco stands stiffly beside her as the artist works. He’s a man used to moving; he has spent the majority of his life on the sea doing the work of a sailor, and when ordered to follow her, he spent much of the time on the road. 

The portrait can’t be done in a single session, and this is the third afternoon he’s had to stand still next to her as the artist works.

“Surely this must be the last one, Tempest,” he whispers, so the artist would not hear. 

She winces. “Given the size of the painting, we will likely do this seven or ten more times.” 

“There’s a sailor on one of the other ships that makes port in New Sérène who does portraits. Only she draws people in the nude and they’re done in one sitting. We should have hired her.”

“Really scandalized the nobility?” She smirks. 

“Aye. She does good work.” 

“Sounds as if you have personal experience in the matter. Have you offered yourself as a subject?” 

“I have not. But there are enough examples of her work floating around.” 

“Would she do a couple?”

He forgets that he is supposed to be still and turns and looks at her. “You would pose naked?”

“Remain still!” The artist snaps from behind the canvas. Vasco snaps his head forward. 

“Of course I would. It might be fun.” 

He lowers his voice further. “We could have her do two and when we fuck off we could hang one in the palace in place of this one.” 

“Love, has anyone told you you’re a troublemaker?”

“Constantly.” 

***

She never expected one wedding. That she has two really shocks her. 

Their second wedding is more an excuse for a celebration. With all that has happened over the last few months, everyone is in need of a party. And with all of her responsibilities as governor, taking a few days off for her wedding is a much-needed break. 

_Modryb_ Slàn adjusts her outfit; the same one her mum wore when she bonded with her dad. When they had gone to tell her about their bonding and their plans for another ceremony, she immediately offered it to her. It’s an intricate leather coat, dyed green, trimmed with fur and feathers. She loves it. 

Around her neck she wears Mum’s betrothal necklace. She wears her mother’s earrings. Around her waist is a scarf that had belonged to Constantin tied as a sash. Tokens to remember those who could not be with her today. 

“You are beautiful, _Magem_. Are you ready?” 

“Yes, _Modryb_ Slàn.”

The small crowd - her team, and Vasco’s crew, all stand as they arrive on-deck. The sky is a brilliant orange as the sun sets, and there’s a cool breeze in the air. 

Vasco looks at her and smiles. He’s in a red sailor’s outfit - something ceremonial, he told her, and is standing with the admiral at the bow of the ship. 

_Modryb_ Slàn embraces her. “You look so much like your mother. Arelwin would have been so happy to see the two of you bond.” 

They link their hands. With more time to prepare for this ceremony, she had Siora and _Modryb_ Slàn assist her with her vows. She speaks them, still somewhat haltingly, in _Yecht Fradí_. The language her Mum and Dad would have used when they made their bond. 

She follows with a translation. “I promise to love you as long as I draw breath. To support you, and follow the path life sends us on by your side. I treasure every moment I have with you and look forward to making many more memories with you, my _minundhanem_ ; the one who holds the other half of my red thread.” 

Tears roll down her cheeks and Vasco cups her face and kisses her, long and slow. Almost shyly, he begins reciting his vows. 

“I’m no good with sweet words so in moments like these I steal the words of those with far more skill than I.”

“Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—  
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night  
And watching, with eternal lids apart,  
Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,  
The moving waters at their priestlike task  
Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,  
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask  
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—  
No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,  
Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,  
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,  
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,  
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,  
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.”

She squeezes his hands and moves in for another kiss. “That was perfect, Love,” she whispers against his lips. 

They exchange rings. Elizabet had a simple gold band made for him, but knows he will almost certainly get a wedding band tattooed on his ring finger eventually. In his line of work a physical wedding band generally isn’t practical but on the rare occasion he attends a formal function with her, the band will see some use. The ring Vasco slides onto her finger is a braided gold band; simple yet elegant.

“I now pronounce you married - again,” the admiral announces and they kiss as the crowd cheers. 

The reception is rowdy and fun; something she’s grown to expect from her time in Naut taverns with Vasco. She’s pleased to see her team embrace it; Petrus is attempting to go toe-to-toe with an older Naut gentleman, and Siora is flirting with a man over a shared bottle of wine. Aphra is over questioning _Modryb_ Slàn about her magical abilities. 

Kurt wraps his arms around both of them. He’s a little unsteady on his feet by this point in the evening. “You know, you’d think having gone through this once already, you would have known how it works,” he slurs. 

“What are you talking about, Kurt?”

“You were kissing all the damn time during the ceremony! You’re not supposed to kiss until the end,” he starts laughing, as if the perceived slight is hilarious to him. 

“Well, Kurt, maybe we just love each other so much we can hardly keep our hands off one another,” Vasco says. 

Kurt scoffs. “We all knew that.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t dragged my beautiful wife off to a corner and consummated our marriage once again...”

“I knew you couldn’t make it through the evening without making reference to defiling my little fledgling.” 

“It’s not ‘defiling’, Kurt, we’re married. Twice over now!”

“Elizabet’s right. Now when I bend her over a barrel it’s perfectly respectable.” 

Elizabet snorts as Kurt pats them both on the back before stumbling away.

“Go fuck yourself, Captain!” 

“I’d rather fuck my wife!” Vasco hollers back. 

Later the two of them find _Modryb_ Slàn looking out over the railing with a glass of wine in her hand. She smiles when she sees them. 

“This is a ship like the one you used to cross the sea?” 

“It’s the exact ship. The one we fell in love on,” Elizabet says. 

It’s true. Vasco had managed to arrange the use of the Sea Horse for their wedding. It feels right: making a commitment to one another in front of their loved ones in the very place they first fell in love. 

“The first time we spoke properly on board was just over there,” Vasco points to a spot a few metres down from where they currently stand. 

“You two will leave for the sea someday?”

“Yes,” Elizabet says, “as soon as I am able to walk away from my duties as governor. But we will visit you, when we make port in New Sérène.” 

“You will be happier outside the confines of your sad buildings, _Magem_ Elizabet.”

 _Modryb_ Slàn has visited New Sérène several times and finds it just as distasteful as Siora does. 

“Yes, I look forward to leaving my current life behind.” 

The party lasts well into the night, and Elizabet and Vasco are finally able to get a moment alone once the majority of the revellers have retreated to their beds. They stand in the very spot where they first talked and look up at the sky at the same stars that observed as they fell in love. 

“You married me. Twice now,” Elizabet says. 

“I could hardly do it just the one time. A woman like you? I had to promise you forever twice. Maybe a few more times. Make sure it really sticks.”

“You’re better at sweet words than you think you are.” 

“It’ll be our secret.” 

“I wish Constantin were here. And my mother. And Mum.”

He wraps his arm around her and holds her. “I know.” 

They stare up at the night sky in each other’s arms, sipping their drinks and enjoying the quiet for a time before Vasco speaks up. 

“I have an idea for your dowry, Tempest. If you agree, we should talk to your aunt in the morning.” 

***

Elizabet asks to speak to her aunt alone the next morning, and when they meet in her and Vasco’s quarters, she slides a chest out from under their bed. 

“It is Congregation tradition for the bride’s family to provide the groom with a dowry upon marriage. The intent is that it be used to establish the household. My adoptive mother’s brother funded the majority of mine. Money he made exploiting and hurting others in the search for power.” 

“I have no interest in blood money offered by the prince. I want nothing more than my wife’s love.”

“There are jewels in this chest from the continent as well as gold. In front of the right buyer, the contents of the chest would be worth upwards of 15,000 gold pieces.”

Her aunt looks shocked. “This is - a lot, yes?”

Elizabet nods. “Enough to live on for many years in the city if spent carefully.”

“Or enough to change the fortunes of a village,” Vasco adds. 

“Vignamri lost so much the day the prince stole Mum and murdered so many of your people. Nothing can replace the people lost that day or repair the damage done. But there are young people in the village who are interested in trading with the other residents of the island, correct?” 

“Yes. You helped several of them many moons ago.” 

“I remember. With the contents of this chest, others can establish themselves in business in the other cities and villages on the island. If there is a desire to do so, permanent shops could be built eventually.”

“You would give this money to the village?”

“If you would accept it.” 

“Ullan was banished from the clan as a result of his selfish actions. When a new _Mal_ is elected, it would be up to them to decide the best use of this gift.”

Elizabet is pleased for hear Ullan is gone; he is a manipulative bastard and she does not care for him. 

“I would trust the new _Mal_ to make the decision that is best for the village.” 

“Thank you both, for your generosity.” 

“I hope this can make a difference for you and the other residents of Vignamri,” Elizabet says. 

“We will use your gift wisely, Elizabet and Vasco.” 

It’s a load off of her to be rid of the prince’s money, and to know that it has gone to benefit the people he hurt so badly in search of someone who could cure the malichor. She can’t make amends for all of his crimes, or all of the crimes the Congregation committed on this island, but it’s a start. 

***

Vasco walks up to the bar at the Naut tavern and is handed a key to a room upstairs.

"We could have just invited her to the palace. It would have been no trouble," Elizabet says to Vasco as they walk up the stairs. 

"This feels more suitable. Something about posing naked in our fancy bedroom just seems off. This is far more clandestine."

Elizabet never thought she'd pose nude. This whole experience will be quite novel for her. The room is small; just a bed and a chair. She opens the bottle of wine she brought and pours two glasses, taking a sip from her glass to calm her nerves. It's not modesty she's feeling; she's always been less concerned about that than most of the other nobles she's encountered, more a fear of coming across as awkward in her attempt to pose for an erotic portrait. 

Vasco picks up on her nerves and plants open mouthed kisses down her neck and chest, unbuttoning her blouse as he does. "I can hardly keep my hands off you, Tempest."

She aches with need as she reaches down to grasp him through his breeches. He's half-hard and she strokes him as he ruts against her hand. 

A knock on the door interrupts them. With a breathy chuckle Vasco stands up, adjusts himself (why, Elizabet is unsure; they'll be nude and on full display in minutes anyway) and opens the door. 

"Gisela? Come in, please."

A tall woman with closely cropped red hair and freckles enters the room. Elizabet stands and introduces herself. 

"You are looking for two portraits tonight?" 

"Yes," Elizabet confirms, "both nude, but one will be slightly less...explicit. We have plans for that one."

"By which Elizabet means we will be leaving it as a gift to the nobility when we fuck off out of here in a few years," Vasco chimes in, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

The woman looks impressed. "I've never done a portrait for nobility before. Or had such a... renowned patron, my lady." 

"I'm nothing special, despite the ridiculous title and position. I'll be a Naut, just as soon as I'm able to get away. Call me Elizabet. Or Lizzie."

Gisela sits, and starts to sharpen a charcoal stick. "Would you prefer I leave while you undress?"

Vasco shrugs and looks over at Elizabet, leaving the decision to her. "You'll see us nude, shortly, anyway, there's no point in standing on ceremony." And with that, she fully unbuttons her blouse and pulls it off her shoulders. Vasco unbuttons her skirt and it drops to her ankles, leaving her in her smalls and stockings. He eyes her appreciatively. 

"I thought I'd leave it up to you, whether I'm wearing the stockings or not," she says. 

"As tempted as I am..." he runs a finger along them, "we did agree to do nude portraits." He unhooks them from her garter belt and slides them down her leg. 

They're fully unclothed. It feels more natural than she thought it would. It helps that Gisela is all business; their nudity is of little interest to her. She suggests an appropriate pose for the first one; the portrait they intend to leave on the wall as they leave the palace for the last time. It's suggestive and her breasts and Vasco's bare chest will be on display, but is otherwise quite tasteful. 

For her, anyway. The nobility will be properly scandalized.

"I won't need to worry about insisting my mark and your tattoos appear correctly in the portrait," she says as Gisela works. 

"The advantages of hiring a Naut who moonlights as an artist," Vasco responds. 

"There are no artists who do portraits of this sort among the nobility?" Gisela asks. 

Elizabet laughs. "Most nobility marry for politics and not love, so there is little desire for such portraits in many marriages. Often once the heirs are birthed, nobles take to separate bedrooms. Easier to carry their affairs on that way. Besides, that would require getting naked in front of one's spouse. Not always a common occurrence in noble households."

"Not even to..."

"Have sex?" Elizabet finishes Gisela's line of questioning. "No. In marriages where both parties are especially uninterested in the other, sex is very much reserved for procreating. No point in taking your night clothes off if all a man does is oil his cock up and shove it in." 

She turns and looks over at Vasco who is distinctly unimpressed at the thought. 

"I’d sooner jump overboard than be so thoroughly unsatisfying in bed. No wonder you'd never had a good lay before me," he says, just loud enough that Gisela can hear. 

"Was Captain Vasco the first man you'd ever seen...?" Gisela starts, somewhat hesitantly. 

"No, the man I lost my virginity to took his clothes off. I did lay with a noble woman once who was most reluctant to remove her chemise. You ever try to go down on a woman wearing a chemise? Not an easy task. I’m proud to say I got the job done, not that she extended me the same courtesy, despite the fact that I did take off all my clothes.” 

Both Gisela and Vasco burst out laughing. “I’d say I’d avoid nobles, Lizzie, but you seem a decent sort.”

“Yes but I’m also terrible at nobility. Talk to my advisors and they’ll have opinions.” 

When Gisela finishes, she walks over and presents the portrait to them. It's an excellent likeness of them and beautifully done. If they frame it, there's a good chance it could be several weeks or even months before someone notices it hanging on the walls of the palace. 

"It's beautiful, thank you," she says as she places it on the side table. "What would you recommend for the...private one?"

"Sit up, and spread your legs. Captain, sit behind her, nuzzle her neck, and place a hand on her breast."

They get themselves into position, and Vasco whispers in her ear as his hands slides down her body towards her folds. "I have a free hand and nobody else will see this one..." 

Elizabet simply reaches behind her to grasp his cock. "You touch me and I'll touch you." 

His fingers ghost over her folds before stilling. "You two are naturals," Gisela says, smirking. 

It's a deeply erotic experience, having such a private moment captured on paper by a stranger. They go no further than touching, giving the illusion of sexual activity for the sake of the portrait but nothing more. The air is charged, and Elizabet finds herself eager to be alone with Vasco once more so she can touch him properly.

Once again, she brings the finished portrait over to the two of them. This one captures the heat in the room; their bodies glisten with sweat and their need is written on their faces and their bodies. 

"Best not let anyone from Thélème see this," Vasco says lightly and Gisela grins proudly. 

Elizabet opens the side table and pulls out a bag of coins - her fee, plus a little extra for her willingness to accommodate them on short notice and hands it to her. 

"You do remarkable work. Thank you for doing portraits of us that actually feel true to our character and to our relationship."

"I'd appreciate any recommendations you're willing to give. I'm not frequently here in port, but all anyone needs is to ask for me by name and everyone'll understand and make sure I get the message." With a nod, she departs from the room, leaving them alone once more. 

Elizabet leans over to grab her glass of wine, which had long been forgotten. She drains it; an attempt to combat the oppressive heat in the room. Vasco's fingers return to her centre and he lightly circles her clit, teasing her.

"Want to fuck me?" 

"No," Vasco says, biting her shoulder and pinching her nipple, "I want to finger you and I want you to stroke me until I come all over your pretty arse." Elizabet whimpers and grabs his cock, giving it a firm stroke. 

The sexually charged atmosphere left her cunt aching all evening, and she’s perilously close to release even with his teasing ministrations. "I won't last long, Love," she warns him. His cock hardens and twitches in her hand, wordlessly telling her he is just as close as she is. 

He increases the pressure and her orgasm coils tight in her belly until she reaches her climax, crying out his name as she continues to stroke his cock, his climax following shortly behind hers. Intense, overwhelming pleasure consumes her; a culmination of a night spent recording not just their love, but their intense passion for one another on paper. A quiet rebellion and evidence they can look back on, decades from now when they're old and retired, bodies worn and sagging of the youthful passion they had in the first years of their relationship. That they couldn't bear to keep their hands off one another. 

She collapses against him, breathing hard as they both revel in the afterglow. He runs his fingers through her hair. 

"We should get dressed and head to the palace, where I will proceed to take off all your clothes once more and fuck you properly."

"Oh yes? Do you intend to make me scream? Make sure the night butler knows what you're doing to me?"

"He'll never be able to look you in the eye again once I'm through with you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem Vasco recites is “Bright Star” by John Keats.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet and Vasco’s routine is interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters are going to be pretty heavy. I’ve included some trigger warnings at the bottom concerning content in the chapter.

_Dear Your Highness, Prince d’Orsay,_

_I regret to inform you your son and my beloved cousin, Constantin d’Orsay has passed away from the malichor. He was in my care for the duration of his illness and I was by his side when he passed._

_Mr. De Courcillon and Lady Morange have appointed me as interim governor in Constantin’s stead. I have accepted the position and will remain until such time as a suitable replacement is appointed. I believe they intend to write to you regarding the matter of succession._

_I have taken the liberty of packing a few things he would have wanted you and Lady d’Orsay to have. I hope you do not mind that I have kept a few things of a personal nature as a token of the close friendship Constantin and I shared. Many of his other belongings have been packed and are in storage at the palace in New Sérène. In time, I will go through them personally._

_Please accept my most sincere condolences for your terrible loss._

_Regards,_

_Lady Elizabet De Sardet, Interim Governor of New Sérène_

It took her several attempts to write the letter. To draft it without the bitterness she feels towards the prince bleeding through. In the end, writing it as a diplomat would was what worked. She has Vasco deliver it to the port and it is on the next ship headed to Sérène. 

It will be at least nine months before she receives a response. Nine months in which she does her best to perform her new duties appropriately. Constantin was always better suited for the position of governor. He was required to attend far more parties, balls, dinners and other formal functions; things Elizabet always disliked. Still, she does her best and Vasco is always home in their quarters at the palace waiting for her to arrive following these events so he can undress her and help her into the tub or their bed. 

People talk. Elizabet knew they would. It’s rare that Vasco attends these events with her; he’s just not comfortable at them and he has his duties at the port. They wouldn’t dare insult Vasco to his face; she expects they find him too intimidating to insult directly but comments within her earshot are not below the nobility. 

She learns to ignore the comments, just like she has always ignored the comments about her mark. They don’t know him, just as they don’t know her. 

Their portrait hangs prominently on the way to the throne room, a reminder to all of the nobility that come to meet her that Elizabet is not like them. And she doesn’t pretend to be like them. She serves her people, but she never forgets her duty to her allies - especially the Natives. Daily, she is reminding people they are guests on the island and that the land must be respected and protected. 

Some respect her for her stance. Others don’t. Vasco unceremoniously shoots one minor noble who was stupid enough to make an assassination attempt while he was in the throne room with her. He had been angry that she had ordered him to take steps to protect and renew the forest on his land at his own cost.

It was a clumsy attempt. The man pulled a blade on her but had little skill and she easily stepped out of the way of his attack. She was never in serious danger but she’s pleased Vasco made an example of him nevertheless. 

This assassination attempt frightens them, and Vasco starts keeping a pistol by the side of the bed. 

And so life goes on for them. They fall into a routine and Elizabet works and waits for the signs that she can divert from the path built for her and leave for the life she was born for. A year goes by before their routine is disrupted... 

***

It’s still dark. The middle of the night. The door knob twists. Before she can react Vasco bolts up, grabs his pistol, pulls down the hammer and covers her with his body. 

The door opens. Vasco aims at the door. 

“You have a loaded pistol aimed at you. Announce yourself or I will kill you.” 

A man’s laugh rings out in the darkness. It sounds familiar. 

“This is not a fucking joke. Speak, now!” 

“Is my niece so important she now needs a bodyguard in her bed as well as out in public?” 

Her stomach churns unpleasantly and her hands are trembling. “Love, lower the gun,” she says softly. She tries to cover her and Vasco with the bedsheet and casts a ball of light to illuminate the room. 

It is the prince. And his wife. Or - Uncle Adrien and Aunt Suzette, as she grew up calling them. Standing in the doorway of their bedroom. Vasco puts the safety back on and lowers the gun with great reluctance. 

“Our ship arrived in port at a late hour. I did not think you would want to wait until morning to greet your loving uncle.” 

By which he means he wanted to throw her off and gain the advantage. 

“You had not announced your intention to visit, Your Highness.” 

“We decided to book passage on the next voyage to avoid further delay. Appropriate leadership is needed to ensure our nation prospers.” 

A reminder that New Sérène is a colony of the Congregation of Merchants and that it has no real autonomy. 

“Get dressed Niece. Bring the Naut warming your bed and present him to your family. Apparently your taste remains consistent.” He looks at her smugly before turning and walking away.

She looks at Vasco, who wears the same expression he did when the man made an attempt on her life. The situations aren’t too different really. The prince intends to destroy her. Not the destruction that ends in death; far worse. He means to destroy her spirit. 

“We can break the window, climb down the wall and run for the port,” he says to her quietly. 

It’s too soon. Everything she’s been built would crumble. By her estimate it will be at least another two years before they can leave. Unless the prince relieves her of her duties. Then she can depart without guilt. 

“I can’t do that Vasco.” 

“I know.”

“Maybe he will dismiss me?” She says hopefully. 

Vasco laughs bitterly. “He means to break you. I won’t let him.” 

He picked up on that too. A wave of anxiety rushes over her. The realization that Vasco will not play nicely with the prince. That if they go off together only one will return alive. And her aunt is an accomplished assassin. 

“Please don’t try to kill him, Vasco.” 

He takes her hand. “I won’t let him hurt you. No matter what, he will never hurt you again.” 

“He will kill you.” 

“He may try. He would not be successful.” 

She’s not going to get him to promise not to kill the prince. 

“We should not keep him waiting.” 

They dress in silence. Vasco rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbow and leaves the top two buttons of the shirt unbuttoned, displaying the tattoos on his arms and chest. A clear message to her aunt and uncle that he is nothing like them.

Elizabet wears a skirt and a blouse and brushes her hair, but wears it loose. 

“Ready?” He asks her. 

“No, but let’s get this over with.” 

Timothy, the night butler, has lit the lanterns in the sitting room and Elizabet and Vasco find the prince and his wife there, sipping glasses of wine. Elizabet stands up straight, and takes Vasco’s hand. 

“May I present my husband, Captain Vasco?” 

Vasco extends his hand. Neither the prince or his wife shake it. Instead they stare at him the way one would look at a cockroach before looking back at Elizabet. 

“You married a Naut?” 

“Of course I did. We love each other,” she says this, as if she cannot possibly understand what his objection would be. 

“Is the marriage legal?” 

“Yes, it was recorded in the ship’s log and registered here at the palace.” 

“You always were a foolish girl in such matters. I should have pushed harder against your mother’s ridiculous position that you were not to be subject to an arranged marriage. Such a waste of potential. I will look into the matter and determine a means to have it annulled. Please, sit, Niece.” 

“Your sister was foolish, dear,” his wife says dismissively. Elizabet grits her teeth but does not respond. Vasco’s standing stiffly beside her, fists balled at his sides. 

She sits on the couch and prompts Vasco to sit beside her. “I will not allow you to intrude on my personal life, Your Highness. My marriage and any other aspect of my personal life are off limits,” she says firmly. 

“‘Your Highness’? Such formality is unnecessary, Niece. You are with family.” He looks pointedly at her, challenging her. 

“Simply an acknowledgement of your station, Sir.” 

“Respect in one hand and disobedience in the other. You’ve forgotten your place.” 

Elizabet pours herself and Vasco a glass of wine. Vasco eyes it closely and sniffs it before nodding at her, confirming it has not been poisoned. She takes a sip. 

“My place was to serve Constantin, find a cure for the malichor and build relationships amongst our allies. You will find I succeeded in all areas. I’m told by High King Dunncas that the progress made on the continent in healing the land is promising. Have you had an opportunity to meet his people?” 

“I have. It all seems a little ridiculous.” 

“Are cases of the malichor down?” 

“They are,” he admits. 

“Indicative that it is working and that the current activities must be maintained. High King Dunncas is a wise man.” 

“Yet his methods do cut into my bottom line. Nevertheless, I’ve ordered citizens to cooperate.” 

“There are things in this life more important than money, Sir.”

“Words of a woman who has only known privilege, am I right, Naut?”

“It’s Vasco, and my wife is correct. You are short-sighted and your beliefs threaten the people you claim to serve,” he growls, glaring at the prince. 

The prince laughs. “Your Naut speaks his mind, does he?” He narrows his eyes. “How charming,” he says coolly. 

“Sir, we only wish to emphasize the importance of maintaining our current course. The lives of everyone on the continent is at stake. Continue to heal the land. For Mother. And Constantin,” her voice breaks a little. 

“Your mother died two weeks after you left. I do not believe anyone wrote you a letter confirming her death.”

“I received no such letter,” she confirms. 

“Well, palace life is busy,” he says dismissively. 

Meaning he did not think her important enough to be told of her mother’s death. 

“Did she suffer?”

“She died in her sleep.”

With this knowledge Elizabet suspects her mother requested a painless death and found a crow willing to grant it. She’s relieved to know she did not linger in agony long. 

“How did my boy die?” 

“As I told you in my letter, of the malichor,” she says carefully. 

The true cause of his death and the circumstances that brought it have been a carefully kept secret. Even those who fought are unaware of the full story. The prince must not know Asili poisoned his son or of Constantin’s actions. Were he to find out it could lead to war. 

“He was examined before the departure and deemed healthy. I find it questionable that he would suddenly come down with the malichor here on the island.” 

“We were all shocked. It’s possible his case had a long incubation period,” she says, projecting false confidence in an attempt to dissuade him from questioning her further. It works. 

“No matter, the boy is dead. Rather inconvenient, to have lost my heir. But also an opportunity to appoint one better suited for my position,” he gives Elizabet a look. 

“A matter that does not need to be decided tonight,” she says smoothly, “it is very late, Your Highness. Vasco and I will take our leave and I will have Timothy show you to your quarters when you are ready to retire.” 

Elizabet and Vasco stand up and she bows politely at the two of them. She pauses just before leaving the room. 

“You will not ever again enter our private quarters without permission, Your Highness. I am the governor here, and I insist you remember this and give me the respect my position entails. Should you disregard this, your intrusion will be seen as the threat that it is. Do I make myself clear, Sir?” 

“Crystal,” the Prince responds coldly.

She leaves, with her head held high and maintains the illusion of confidence until they return to their bedroom and it shatters. Her legs are shaking so badly she loses her balance and Vasco grabs her before she can fall. 

“So, what did you think?” She asks, trying to sound light. 

He helps her to the bed and they sit down. “The man cares for nothing, save himself and power.” 

“That is accurate.”

“He intends to try to control you.”

“He does.”

“Tell him you know what he did to you and your mum. Use it to take away any power he thinks he has.”

“It’s powerful information that must be used correctly. For now I will keep what I know quiet until the right time presents itself. We should try to get some sleep.”

“Do you have any appointments in the morning?”

“No, I can sleep in. Are you able to?”

“Aye. I can join you for breakfast whenever we wake up and head out for the day afterwards.” 

Their sleep is fitful and Elizabet has nightmares of her husband’s death when she is able to doze off. 

She’s clinging to him so hard when she wakes up that there are nail marks in his arms. She lets go of him. 

“I’m so sorry Love. You should have woken me.” 

“You needed the sleep, as restless as it may have been. I can stay home today; send word to the port that I won’t make it over.”

“No, I will manage. I do not want my work to interfere with your career any more than it already has.”

Vasco has never complained about the situation but she knows it’s hard on him to be away from the sea save for the occasional short voyage to Hikmet or San Matheus. 

“Tiptoeing around your mother’s tyrant of a brother is hardly a work matter.”

“But it is. I report to him, technically. And I expect he will remain on the island until he is satisfied with how the colony is being run, one way or the other.”

“Just... trust me to decide if I can take a day or several days away? The admiral understands our circumstances and has been accommodating. She knows what she stands to gain in the end. Let me be here if you need me.” 

Elizabet nods. “I should manage today. He will likely wish to travel to see where Constantin was laid to rest. Would you accompany me on that journey?” 

“Of course Tempest.” 

They’re already in the dining room when Elizabet and Vasco enter.

“I see my niece continues to practice her dreadful habit of sleeping late.”

“I would have been up earlier had I not been awake for several hours in the middle of the night,” she responds politely.

Judy brings them both a plate and a fresh pot of tea. She starts to serve them when Elizabet stops her. 

“Judy, we can serve ourselves. Please do not worry about us.” She looks nervous but steps back. So her uncle has been tormenting her staff, it seems. 

“Judy,” she rushes over to Elizabet, “you’ve been working so hard this morning. Have you had a chance to eat?”

“No, Your Excellency.” 

“Then please take a break and eat something. There is plenty here. Love, can you go get Judy a plate?” Vasco immediately stands and leaves the room, returning shortly with a fresh plate and cutlery, and spoons some food onto it before handing it to Judy.

“Thank you, Your Excellency. Captain.” She nods gratefully at them before looking nervously at the prince.

“Please go and take a break. I will take care of things until dinner.”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” she rushes out of the room before the prince can respond. 

“You spoil your help, Niece,” the prince says. 

“On the contrary, I treat the staff who work for me like people. My colleagues receive a fair wage, days off and I insist they take time away when they are ill, with pay, of course. As guests in the palace, the two of you will treat my colleagues with the same respect I do.” 

“And if we don’t?” his wife chimes in.

“Then there are other accommodations in the city.” 

“Your mother was too soft on you,” she says. 

“My mother taught me well. I will not listen to criticism of the way she raised me.” 

“You’ve grown too bold in your time away from the continent, girl.” 

They eat in awkward silence; the only sound in the room being the sound of cutlery scraping the plates. 

“How long do you intend to remain on Tír Fradí? Surely you have matters on the continent that cannot be neglected.”

“Matters on the continent are being handled. I intend to remain at least six months, if not a year. Ensuring the governance of our colony is adequate is my top priority,” he pauses, “as is preparing my heir. You are my heir, with the death of my boy.” 

Elizabet looks at Vasco nervously. He puts a hand on her thigh under the table.

“Uncle,” the familial title feels like ash in her mouth, “I am honoured. But I have no intention of being your heir. Please understand that I will not return to live on the continent.” 

Cutlery drops on the floor and the prince is standing over her with his hands on her chair. He’s breathing heavily and his face is red. 

“I doted on you, Niece, but I see that was a mistake. You forget who owns you.” 

Memories of kicks to her stomach and fists pummelling her shoot to the forefront of her mind and she flinches and curls up, trying to cover herself from the blows she anticipates are about to come. 

Vasco stands and moves directly into the prince’s space, pushing him back forcefully. The prince is a tall and imposing man, and has close to a head on him, but Vasco looks him in the eye and moves forward, forcing the prince to continue to step back from Elizabet.

“You will not threaten my wife. You do not own her.” His voice is quiet and his tone is dangerous in a way she’s rarely heard from him. 

“Your husband forgets his place, Niece.” 

“He does not, Uncle.” She’s so panicked she can hardly think. 

“I hear the life of a sailor is a dangerous one,” the prince says, just as quietly. 

“Aye, it is. I know how to manage risk. Do you, Your Highness? It would be unfortunate for an accident to befall you.” The use of his title is dripping with sarcasm. 

The threat is subtle but it’s there and she grabs his hand, silently pleading with him to be quiet. 

Kurt enters the dining room then, interrupting the confrontation. A miracle of timing.

“Green Blood!” he says, just a little too loudly, “I had heard your aunt and uncle were here visiting. What a nice surprise!” 

Kurt dislikes the prince and his wife so he’s clearly trying to diffuse the tension in the room. 

“It is a surprise, Kurt. We were just discussing His Highness’ line of succession.” 

“Do you have need of me today?” 

“I am in no danger of assassination here with my family.”

“I’m that case - Captain, spar with me in the garden?” 

“I really should remain with Elizabet,” Vasco protests.

“No, Captain, I must insist we get some practice in,” Kurt says forcefully. 

Elizabet understands. “Go Vasco. I will be fine.” 

He looks reluctant but finally concedes and leaves with Kurt. 

“Now that your husband has left us, let us continue our discussion about your position within our family, Niece.” 

She clenches her fists and tries to be braver than she feels. “As I told you, I will not live on the continent. Furthermore, I dislike court life and you have heard how the nobility speaks of me. The Congregation will not accept a princess they believe carries a plague.”

“You will do as I say. You are the most expensive thing I own, Elizabet.” 

He knows she knows. Any leverage she once had over him with that knowledge has evaporated. She plays the one card she has remaining. “The Congregation will not accept an heir who is not your blood relative. A woman native to Tír Fradí and seaborn at that.” 

“I have no more blood relatives left alive. They’ll sooner accept you over a noble who scratches and claws their way to our family’s throne.” 

She shrugs. “We could find out if you wish. The walls in the palace are thin and people talk. Word would make its way to the continent. Besides, we both know you’re lying about the lack of blood relatives. The great Prince d’Orsay has at least one bastard I’m aware of.” 

It is his wife who responds. “You play a dangerous game, my darling niece. We could have your husband thrown into a hole and left to rot for the rest of his life and I promise, you will never find him. But - he did threaten my husband. You do know the punishment for threatening regicide, don’t you?” Her voice is deceptively sweet. 

“So play nicely or you’ll torture and kill my husband? That’s your stance?” 

“It is your husband who threatened me, Niece. Suzette is reminding you of the consequences.”

“Adrien is correct, my dear. He guards his investments wisely and you are his greatest investment.” 

“Your aunt and I have business to attend to on the island that will take several weeks. This will give you some time to consider yours and your husband’s futures. And to teach the idiot Naut you married to keep his mouth shut when he is among his betters.” 

Her stomach churns. She is trapped.

***

Kurt walks purposefully towards the garden, stopping only to grab two blunted swords from the armoury. He hands one to Vasco when they get to the garden. 

Vasco rushes him and he blocks the attack easily. He’s angry, Kurt notices, and needs to let off some steam. 

“Whatever you’re planning, Sailor, don’t.” 

Vasco runs at him again and Kurt blocks the attack, pushing him backwards. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Don’t play stupid. You are plotting and you’re going to get yourself killed.” 

Vasco attacks and Kurt blocks it almost lazily. He hasn’t attacked back yet, focusing on defence instead. Better to let Vasco wear himself out. 

“Fucking hit me back!”

Apparently he misjudged the situation. Kurt obliges and gives Vasco the fight he wants. Unusually, Vasco’s form is off, and Kurt gets several hard strikes in. Still, he gets up and rushes him again and again.

He only yields when Kurt knocks him to the ground and points his blade at his throat. Kurt helps him up and hands him a water skin.

“Green Blood is going to kill me for beating you up.” 

“She’ll understand. We were using blunted weapons this time.”

Kurt motions towards a nearby tree and they sit under it. 

“Nobody goes up against the prince and wins, Vasco.” 

“What would you have me do, Kurt? I promised her he’d never hurt her again.”

“Take her and run. Tonight. Go to the port, sign her up, and leave on the first ship you can.” 

“She won’t leave. Not when things are still so fragile.” 

“Make her see it’s the only option. That the prince forced her hand.” 

“There is a way. A way to beat him.”

“No.” Kurt says sternly. “Don’t be an idiot. She needs you.”

“She needs her freedom, Kurt. A freedom not guaranteed unless the prince is forced to give it to her.” 

“Is her freedom worth it if you die in the process?” 

“Yes,” he says instantly and without a moment’s hesitation. 

He remembers Green Blood’s speech to him about how she was prepared to love him even if he were to leave for the sea once more. That she was happy because she’d found her soulmate. It was endearing and sweet, but he also thought her a little foolish in love. Now he realizes her husband is just as foolish for her as she is for him. 

They really are meant for one another. But that foolishness is going to kill him and devastate her.

“She would disagree and would be furious with you for even considering something that would get you killed. I should go and tell her right now that her husband is being a right fucking idiot so she can talk some sense into you.” 

“My death is not a guarantee.”

And he thought he was a stubborn asshole. 

Kurt grabs Vasco and shakes him by the shoulders. “Did you not hear me? You’ll die - not well, the kind of death that makes you wish you were thrown on a pyre, and she will be left traumatized and trapped in the very life you’re trying to rescue her from. Nobody goes up against the prince and wins!” 

“Only because he has never gone up against me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next few will include the ongoing appearance of abusive parental figures. The abuse is verbal in nature (insults, threats) and also includes controlling behaviour and physical intimidation.
> 
> As a result, there will be insight into how the person being abused reacts and defends themselves - both from their perspective and the perspective of their spouse.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet and Vasco continue to deal with her aunt and uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning:
> 
> This chapter contains instances of emotional abuse by Elizabet’s aunt and uncle. I’ve included a full list of the sorts of abuse in the note at the end, and if you’d prefer not to read this chapter, I’ve also included a brief summary of the most pertinent plot points.

He doesn’t argue frequently with Elizabet, but when he does something that irritates her, she frequently speaks to him the way she speaks when she’s engaging in diplomacy. It drives him crazy. 

He wishes she would get properly angry with him if she’s feeling upset about something he’s done. But seeing the way her uncle treats her, he understands why she so rarely raises her voice or shows her anger in anything but the most gentle and hesitant of ways. 

She’s afraid to assert herself. Not just afraid but terrified. So most of the time she expresses her frustration and anger as politely and diplomatically as possible.

Nevertheless, she is fuming when he arrives home from the port, where Vasco had gone after his spar with Kurt at Kurt’s insistence (“she needs space to deal with her family”). At first he assumes the behaviour of her aunt and uncle caused her frustration and then she glares at him and he realizes he is likely at least partially responsible for her mood. 

“Elizabet, how are you doing?” He asks her cautiously. 

“I am to be my uncle’s heir,” she says bitterly. 

He sits across from her and she does not stretch her hands across the table as she normally would. She hasn’t even noticed the cuts and bruises from his spar with Kurt earlier. 

“You can refuse it.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” she snaps. 

He tries Kurt’s suggestion. “We can leave. Tonight.” 

“No, we can’t. Not just because it would ruin everything I’ve worked for. He’ll kill you.”

“He can try.”

“This isn’t something to make light of,” she says, raising her voice slightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout.” She curls into herself, hugging her knees to her chest; a means to cover herself after her outburst.

It breaks his heart. He wants to tell her she wasn’t shouting; she hardly raised her voice. That she’s allowed to get angry and express her frustration. That he would never dream of causing her harm for any reason.

“Are you angry with me or are you angry about what has happened?” 

Best get some clarity on the situation. 

“Both. I’m trapped. If I don’t accept my position as his heir he will have you thrown into a hole or tortured and killed. And they can threaten that because you threatened him.”

“Not directly.”

“Yet you did, which gives him power.”

“He’d have threatened my life anyway. The life of a Naut means nothing to a man like him.” 

She sighs. “Perhaps but we would have been able to push back. He is a tyrant but prefers not to appear publicly as one.” 

“Would you expect me to remain quiet as he treats you with such cruelty?” He speaks softly, to make it clear he’s not bothered by her frustration. 

“Yes. I told you once he is the only person I’m afraid of.”

Her voice is small and she’s scared. 

“Tempest, I’m sorry, but I cannot sit idly as someone I love is being mistreated.”

“He will kill you!” She bursts into tears then, crying into her hands. Vasco moves to sit beside her and pulls her close. 

“I promised you I wouldn’t let him hurt you again. You will not end up his heir.” 

“There’s...nothing...you...can...do,” she says between sobs. 

His stomach drops as he realizes by trying to protect her this morning he only allowed them to hurt her. That her uncle was shrewd enough to use his desire to keep her safe against her.

He hates himself for what he’s about to say, but it’s the best way to minimize her pain and anxiety for the time being, even if it leaves her vulnerable to her aunt and uncle’s poisoned words.

“I will do my best to stay away from your aunt and uncle as much as possible to avoid further... incidents, but please promise me you will flee and tell me if he threatens or tries to harm you in any way and I will handle him. Please, let me protect you.” 

She looks over at him wearily, eyes bloodshot and her face streaked with tears. “I promise. They have business to attend to over the next few weeks, meaning we are unlikely to see them much. Once these matters are dealt with, they have asked to travel to see Constantin’s resting place.”

Good. If they don’t see them for a few weeks he can take his time and solidify the details he needs to put his plan to save her into motion.

“Would you allow me to go with you?”

She nods. “If I agree to be his heir he may be less antagonistic.” 

She will not be his heir. He would die before allowing that to happen. But he does not tell her this. 

Elizabet starts hyperventilating - a panic attack and a sign this conversation needs to be put on hold. For the best, because he will save her from a fate that would destroy her spirit and she will not approve of his plan to do so. 

He rubs her back in soothing circles. “I’m here. Tell me what you feel.” 

“Your arms around me. You’re rubbing my back. My knees against my chest.”

“Good. What can you hear?”

“Your voice. The sound of someone playing the piano somewhere. Likely my aunt. She plays well.”

“Do you play an instrument? It’s never come up.”

“The piano. Only a little. I was always a better singer than musician. Do you?” 

“I picked up some guitar over the years. I’m not what you would call ‘good’.”

She’s talking about something else and her breathing has slowed. A good sign. 

“Would you play me something some day?” 

“I can. You may regret your request.” 

“If you play something I know I could sing.”

“Ah, but my repertoire is mostly sea shanties. Likely out of your scope.”

“You’ll have to teach me, then.”

“You’d never ask me that if you’ve ever heard me sing.” 

“You can’t be that bad, Love.” 

“Ask my crew next time you see them at the tavern. It’s one matter they will not hold their tongue on.” 

***

The only time Elizabet sees the prince and his wife is at breakfast over the next few weeks. She plays the role of dutiful niece as well as possible; keeping conversation light and centred around their business activities and meetings. She's extremely careful not to mention Vasco, and Adrien and Suzette appear willing to pretend he does not exist. 

She doesn't sleep much. Her anxiety keeps her up late into the night. Some nights Vasco stays up with her and rubs her back until she drifts off, but other nights she begs him off; telling him she has paperwork to catch up on. Which she always does (there's no end to the paperwork on her desk), but it's not work keeping her awake. It's her crippling fear that her aunt and uncle will kill her husband if she doesn't play nicely. 

It's difficult for him, not being able to speak his mind and defend her. She doesn't tell him the things they say to her. They're frequently unkind to her, but have not been directly threatening - for now. It's always been this way and she's used to it. She tells herself that in time Vasco will get used to the way things are with them. 

He won't. Eventually Adrien or Suzette will say something so cruel or so threatening in his presence that he will snap, and either he dies or Adrien and Suzette dies, which will inevitably lead to his arrest for regicide. 

"We can run," he pleads with her after a particularly trying breakfast that leaves her retreating to their bedroom in tears. 

She's at the point where she's considering it. Her uncle could only blame himself if things fall apart after she makes a run for it. Not that he would ever have the humility to realize his actions brought about her escape.

But then she sees her mother and Constantin's pained and scarred faces in her mind and she resolves to see this through. 

"I made a promise to Mother and Constantin that I'd find a cure. I need to make sure the people of the continent listen to Dunncas' people and make the necessary changes to stop the malichor."

Vasco just takes her hand and rests his head on her shoulder. 

"Besides, he will always find me. If he wants me to be his heir badly enough he will send spies or hunters to find and kidnap me. At least if I play by his rules I have you by my side and I can abdicate once the dust settles."

"You will be difficult to find. You will have a new name, and I can arrange so we never make port in Sérène. I swear to you, I will protect you with my life." 

"That's what I'm afraid of, Love."

***

"Niece, please make the arrangements to bring your aunt and I to our son's resting place. We will leave in the morning." 

Elizabet protests, "Sir, I would need more than a day's notice to leave. I have meetings tomorrow and it is not always easy to book a carriage on such short notice. The rural areas of the island are not safe, and my husband would need to come with us for additional protection, which means clearing it with his work schedule as well."

"Those sound like excuses, Niece." 

Suzette chimes in, "We ask for so little from you, my dear, yet you fight us every step of the way. You still have not confirmed your place as your uncle's heir."

"She has not," Adrien says, "After all I've spent, saving her first from a life out in the woods and then a life on a filthy ship, and this is how she thanks me. You grew up in privilege and comfort, and you show your family so little gratitude."

"And the gall she shows, marrying a man who thinks he can threaten you."

Elizabet's heart starts palpitating and she feels dizzy.

"I do think we've been too easy on you, Niece."

"He hasn't spoken to you since that day!" Elizabet says desperately, knowing that this is irrelevant to them. 

"The man works at the port, doesn't he? James!" he calls for his personal guard, a high ranking Coin Guard Lieutenant based out of Sérène, who enters the dining room. 

"I need someone arrested - he's at the port. His name is -"

"I'll be your heir!" Elizabet shouts desperately. "On the condition you leave my husband alone. You will not harm him in any way or kill him."

"You are dismissed, James," the man bows and leaves the room once more.

"Now, that wasn't too difficult, now was it, dear niece? Please make the arrangements to leave in the morning."

Defeated, she nods. "I will ensure it happens. Good day, Sir. Madame." 

Elizabet rushes out of the room and wipes her eyes using her sleeve. She knocks on Mr. De Courcillon's office door and he invites her in and clearly notices that she's been crying, but does not speak of it.

"Can you please cancel my meetings for the next week? His Highness and his wife have asked to travel to see Constantin's resting place. We will leave in the morning and I will make the necessary arrangements today."

"This is short notice, Your Excellency. You have several meetings this week with high ranking members of the nobility, as well as the Bridge Alliance ambassador, and they will be most displeased to hear of your cancellation," he chides her. 

It's never her uncle's fault when he makes unreasonable demands. The consequences always fall on her head. Or Constantin's. Or anyone else around him. If she blames her uncle, word will get back to him, and things are messy enough with him. 

"Please pass along my most effusive apologies for my thoughtlessness, and my solemn promise to reschedule these meetings at their earliest convenience. Now, I must be off to book a carriage." She stands and turns to leave when he speaks.

"It's not such a horrible life, this one. You and your husband could be happy if you only made the effort."

Because apparently all it takes is effort to be happy in a life you are completely ill-suited for. 

"Thank you, Mr. De Courcillon. Good day.”

The carriage driver fleeces her; charging five times the standard rate for their planned journey. She doesn't bother to try to negotiate. Instead she hands over the coin without argument, provides him with instructions for pick-up in the morning and leaves for the port. 

She can only procur the one carriage, meaning Kurt and James will not be able to join them on the journey. It will just be her, Vasco and her aunt and uncle.

Her busy schedule means it's rare she can visit the port, and she misses it. She enjoys the smell of the ocean, and watching the ships enter and leave the port. She's standing, looking out over the water, trying to figure out how to find Vasco when the admiral walks up beside her. 

"Your Excellency, how are you?"

"I'm well," she lies, "you may call me Elizabet - or Lizzie. There is no need for formalities."

"For a high ranking member of the nobility, you're an easy read when it comes to your feelings - and a terrible liar, if we're to skip the formalities, Lizzie."

"My aunt and uncle are on the island."

"I'm aware. I was the one who saw to their disembarkment in the middle of the night. He was adamant we unload his cargo in the dark; wouldn't wait until morning. Spoiled prick," she looks over at Elizabet, realizes she may have spoken too boldly and prepares to apologize when Elizabet stops her.

"He's far worse than a 'spoiled prick', trust me. Has Vasco said anything about him?" 

"Not much, aside from informing me he may need time away to handle matters, but it's clear he's been unhappy since they arrived."

"Where is he? I need to speak with him and I apologize for intruding on the work being done here at port."

"Just over there," she points at a nearby ship, "showing some new recruits how to tie proper knots."

"Do I have your permission to interrupt?" 

The admiral gives her a sad smile. "He's your husband and I daresay you need him far more than we do here with whatever is going on with your family."

"Thank you for your accommodation. Have a good day." Elizabet departs and heads towards the ship Vasco is on. She doesn't board, but he notices her quickly enough. 

"Tempest! Come aboard!" 

Once onboard, he greets her with a kiss before turning to the recruits he is with. "Elizabet, this is Bedo, Drystan and Madlen, they've come from Vedleug."

Derdre's home village? She's surprised to see members of her village join the Nauts. 

"It is lovely to meet you. I'm Elizabet, Vasco's wife, and the governor of New Sérène." 

"We know who you are," the woman, Madlen, grins. 

"You have gained the respect of Vedleug’s leader, Derdre," Bedo adds. 

"Vasco, do you have a moment?"

"Aye."

She turns to the other three. "I'll have him back to you shortly. I am sorry for interrupting."

He walks with her to the bow of the ship where they're out of earshot of the others. "What's the matter?" 

"My aunt and uncle have insisted on leaving to visit Constantin's resting place tomorrow. I'm so sorry; it's last minute and I couldn't talk them into waiting a week, and I know it's inconvenient -"

"Tempest," he says gently, "I will come with you. It is no trouble."

She bites her bottom lip in an attempt to stave off her tears and nods. 

"There's more. Would you rather wait until tonight?"

She nods again and he puts his arms around her and holds her. "Go to the cafe and buy yourself a coffee and a slice of cake. That always cheers you up." 

"I need to pack for our trip."

"You can take half an hour to yourself. Go, and I will see you tonight." 

He's right. Half an hour away from the palace sipping a coffee and eating a slice of cake in a quiet cafe helps. It doesn't solve anything, but it gives her a moment of safety before returning to the vipers at the palace. And it gives her a chance to figure out how to break it to Vasco that she's agreed to be the prince's heir in order to save his life. 

Vasco doesn't react how she expects him to when she tearfully breaks the news to him that evening. 

"We will figure it out," is all he says before kissing her. 

There's no anger, no frustration, not even bitterness over her uncle's win over her. Just calm acceptance. She doesn't get it. 

He undresses her and they make love, and for the first time in weeks she is able to get to sleep before midnight. 

***

The prince thinks he's won. Men like him generally think they have. Adrien used him as leverage over her and got her to do what he wants. For now. 

When men think they've gotten what they want they let down their guard. A perfect time to watch and find a weakness to exploit. Especially out in the bush, where it's easy to hide a body. 

It'll be the four of them on the trip. No body guards; there's simply not room in the carriage Elizabet procurred - a consequence of his insistence they leave with almost no notice. The prince was fine with this, she tells him. Of course he would be - the prince has secured her promise to act as his heir in exchange for his life. As far as the prince is concerned, this is a quiet journey to explore the island. And for the most part it will be. Until he shows the prince the danger of underestimating a Naut. 

Assuming it goes as planned, there'll be no bodies to hide, but either way, Elizabet will be free before she steps foot in New Sérène once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following emotionally abusive actions take place:
> 
> Threatening the life of a loved one in order to coerce something out of another
> 
> Making completely unreasonable demands
> 
> A character accepts criticism that should have been levelled at her abuser
> 
> Gaslighting 
> 
> Elizabet struggles with her anxiety as a result of their abuse
> 
> ***
> 
> Chapter summary for those who would prefer not to read it:
> 
> The most pertinent plot points are that Elizabet has agreed to act as Adrien’s heir, and Adrien, Suzette, Vasco and Elizabet are preparing to leave on their trip to visit Constantin’s resting place. Vasco is not angry that Elizabet has agreed to Adrien’s demands; he sees it as an opportunity to pull the trigger on his plan to save Elizabet, since Adrien’s guard is now down, and swears Elizabet will have her freedom before stepping foot in New Sérène once more.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A road trip from hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: like the last chapter, this chapter contains instances of Elizabet’s aunt and uncle behaving in an abusive manner. I’ve provided a full list down below as well as a summary in the event you decide to skip this chapter.

It's an uneventful journey by his and Elizabet's standards, but the prince and his wife do not take it well. They're unused to life out in the bush, somehow expecting nice accommodations and professionally cooked dinners and react poorly when Vasco sits by the fire and prepares to cook. 

"You mean to tell me you have not arranged for a cook to meet us at our camp?" Adrien rages at Elizabet. 

"Of course I didn't. We do our own cooking on the road. Vasco is an excellent cook." 

"I will not eat a meal prepared by your...bed mate!"

"It'll almost certainly be poisoned," Suzette says. 

Vasco rolls his eyes. He’s briefly tempted to invite them to eat Elizabet's cooking instead, but when she inevitably burns their dinner (and experience tells him she will) it will be her that's the target of their anger, yet again. Luckily, she’s aware of her shortcomings when it comes to meal preparation.

"Well, I can't cook, so you can either trust that he won't poison me, and thus won't poison you, or you can roll the dice with whatever I can pull together. Or you're free to cook us dinner."

It was the wrong thing to say. The prince hovers over Elizabet and she starts to shrink back in fear. 

"The gall of you, Niece. You spent too much time around my son; his habits have rubbed off on you."

Vasco stands and steps between them and Elizabet hides behind him. He doesn't say a word; it's better for Elizabet if he remains a physical but not a vocal presence. 

He hates it. He hates that he can't give these people the proper dressing down they deserve. But the moment will come to pull the trigger on his plan, and for it to work he needs to be patient. 

Suzette walks to the carriage, goes through a bag and returns with a rifle. Elizabet tenses behind him. She aims the rifle at him. 

"Naut, cook us dinner, but know I will be watching." 

The rifle doesn't bother him. It's par for the course in dealing with these people. In fact, he's pleased; he now knows the type of gun she favours, and by the way she holds it knows that she would be an accurate shot, but would not be able to fire quickly and reactively. It's long range, but would be near useless up close as anything but a club. An ideal weapon for a sniper. 

Elizabet is understandably less comfortable. "Put the gun away!" she screeches, rushing in front of him. 

"Just a precaution, my dear."

"Tempest, let them do whatever makes them...comfortable." he says loudly. Make Adrien and Suzette think he's been properly leashed by them. 

"Your man learns quickly, Niece," Adrien responds with approval. 

Still, Elizabet refuses to leave his side as he cooks them dinner and until he stops her, tries to stay between him and the barrel of the gun at all times. 

She won't fire it. Not while she has Elizabet watching her. A closer inspection tells him the rifle only fires a single shot before it must be reloaded. A person with her experience could expect a reload time of 20 seconds; plenty of time for him to flee and change his position should the need arise. 

That being said, it’s a powerful weapon and all she needs is one accurate shot to kill a person.

The prince carries a sword, but no gun. Based on his gait, the prince has a bad knee. Making him easy to outrun, and easy to kill in a duel. But the prince is a smart man, and would not initiate combat on his own. No, his wife is the dangerous one and he leaves the killing to her. 

A black ulg smells the food on their fire and approaches, ready to attack. Vasco gestures to it. "Do you have this, Elizabet?"

Without a word she stands up and quickly casts several spells in succession at it, killing it. She looks over at him, torn. 

"Go ahead and skin it; I'm fine by the fire." he calls out to her. 

Elizabet has always skinned the beasts they've killed. At first to trade for coin to be used for bribes, but now she's more likely to save them and bring them to her aunt. Frequently she gathers alchemical compounds from their bodies and when she has time, practices her surgical skills. 

Not today, though. She skins the beast and bottles whatever she needs for her potions and sits back down beside him, unwilling to leave him alone long. 

"You don't want them to see you as a threat?" she asks under her breath. 

Vasco has had Elizabet fight off any of the creatures that approached them today. She's never once been in danger; generally bringing them down with a few powerful spells. But it's not to avoid appearing threatening. It's something else. He wants her aunt and uncle to know precisely what she is capable of. That she's an incredibly powerful magic user and proficient with a pistol. That she can kill effortlessly when she has need to. 

"Something like that," is all he says.

Suzette and Adrien realize they're expected to sleep on the ground as they eat dinner. They don't complain about his cooking, which means they enjoy it. 

Not that they would ever admit to it. 

"Niece, will you lay out our mattresses for us?" Suzette asks in her falsely sweet voice. 

"You have a bed roll. Not a mattress. We are out in the woods."

"You can't expect me to sleep on the ground!" The prince says, disgusted. 

"There is little choice in the matter. Tír Fradí has no inns outside the cities." 

Elizabet has carefully avoided the villages; fearful of what could happen if she introduces her aunt and uncle to her Native allies. In practice, while traveling, they were frequently able to borrow a cabin in a nearby village, but this is not something either of them reveals. 

Vasco moves closer to Elizabet, readying himself to cover her if necessary. 

"Such a backwards place. You should be thanking me for rescuing you from this filth," the prince says to her. 

Elizabet doesn't respond. 

Someone needs to keep watch overnight, and Adrien and Suzette certainly wouldn't, which leaves the task to Vasco and Elizabet. He suggests they both remain by the fire, which allows him to stay close to her all night. She takes the first watch and wakes him up halfway through the night before settling on the ground with her head in his lap. The weight of her head on his lap is a comfort and he soaks in every moment of it. Just in case. Should he die on their journey his last thoughts will be of her.

It takes two days for them to arrive at Constantin's resting place. Elizabet had warned them he was not buried, so there would simply be a bed of flowers and the marker she had made. Surprisingly, neither the prince or his wife balk at this. But they'd laid to rest enough relatives who'd died of the malichor to understand. 

Suzette gives a convincing display at the site, kissing her hand and pressing it on the tombstone. No tears, but Vasco expected none. Elizabet stands back and holds his hand. 

"Had I realized you had not bothered to purchase a real gravestone for my son, I would have had one commissioned," the prince says to Elizabet as he stands by the grave site. 

"Constantin would have preferred this one. It was made with love," she says, her voice quivering. 

"The world doesn't run on love, foolish girl." He kicks the gravestone and Elizabet recoils and cries out as if he had kicked her. 

It's too much for him. He's remained silent for days, but he can't do it any longer. 

"Stop!" he shouts, running towards the prince. 

His temper is about to get the best of him when he hears Elizabet scream his name in terror and he stills, remembering his plan. 

"Have a new gravestone commissioned to sit beside this one. But let this one remain. To keep your heir happy." Keeping his tone diplomatic may be the hardest thing he's ever done. 

The prince looks at him, impressed. "You have some intelligence after all. You've learned your place, Naut." Adrien walks towards Elizabet, who is on the ground hyperventilating, in the midst of a panic attack. He stands over her and Vasco readies himself to jump between them. 

"The little rock you made will stay where it is, but you will place the proper gravestone I commission for my boy. Understood?"

She nods frantically, unable to speak and Vasco crouches down beside her and rubs her back in soothing circular motions. 

"Had I known she'd end up so soft under my sister's care I'd have raised her myself," the prince mutters as he walks away from the two of them. 

***

It is in these last few weeks she realizes just how much Mother protected her. The prince had always doted on her growing up; his wife generally ignored her. She saw his violent moods in person rarely, but was well aware of his temperament thanks to Constantin's stories. Mother was not able to shelter him quite so easily. 

But now, with Mother and Constantin gone, she is the target of his rages. The reason for his discomfort and frustration. She suspects the only reason he hasn't gotten physical is Vasco's presence. 

He thinks if he only intimidates her enough she will bow to his whims and re-shape herself into the heir he desires. And she fears that will happen eventually. That one day she will no longer be pretending when she cedes to his demands, but genuine. She doesn't want to be that person. 

"Help me to his grave?" she says, once her breathing is back under control. Vasco takes her hands and helps her stand and together they walk to his grave. 

Her aunt and uncle have wandered back to the carriage and are impatient to leave. Two days of travel yet they only spend a total of ten minutes paying their respects to their son. 

His gravestone is ajar thanks to her uncle's kick. She drops to her knees and straightens it, rubbing the dirt from the prince's boot off of it and leans forward and kisses it. 

Vasco turns to walk away to give her some privacy. "Stay, please," she tells him and he kneels down beside her. 

"I'm sorry for all they did to you. I wish I could have done more for you, Constantin."

"You did so much for him," Vasco tells her. 

Constantin's absence is a constant ache, but today her grief is an overwhelming wave washing over her. She feels as if she is drowning. Naively she had thought bringing her aunt and uncle to his grave would be a comfort; perhaps provide some  
closure but instead it only makes it hurt more. 

"Hurry up, Niece!" her uncle shouts from the carriage. 

"You can come back again when they are gone, Tempest." 

"Will you come with me?"

"If I can." 

His response is ominous and frightens her. But she doesn't have the energy to question him on it, so instead she gives her cousin’s gravestone one last kiss, stands up, and walks towards the carriage with Vasco's hand in hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet’s aunt and uncle engage in the following abusive behaviours:
> 
> They react with anger and cruelty to perceived inconveniences 
> 
> Suzette pulls a gun on a character as a threat
> 
> Adrien physically intimidates Elizabet 
> 
> There is attempted property destruction with the intent to intimidate Elizabet 
> 
> Elizabet has a panic attack as a result of this behaviour
> 
> ***
> 
> Summary
> 
> On the way to Constantin’s grave, Suzette keeps her rifle aimed at Vasco while he cooks dinner. He uses it as an opportunity to learn what kind of weapon she wields; useful information for what he has planned. He discovers the prince has a bad knee and would be easy to outrun or defeat in combat. 
> 
> As part of his plan, he has Elizabet fight the creatures they come across. While Elizabet assumes he does so in order to not be seen as a threat, his true purpose is to showcase that Elizabet is a threat. He wants Suzette and Adrien to know exactly what his wife is capable of.
> 
> At the gravesite, Adrien reacts with cruelty to the sight of the tombstone Elizabet made. His reaction almost causes Vasco to lash out in her defence, but, remembering his plan, he feigns diplomacy before returning to his wife’s side to care for her.
> 
> Elizabet is worried about how her aunt and uncle’s abuse will change her. Vasco’s ominous response to a question has her worried but she does not have the emotional energy to question him about it.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasco confronts the prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief NSFW at the beginning.

“A word in the woods tomorrow at dawn, Highness?” Vasco approaches the prince as Elizabet gathers herbs in the forest. 

The prince eyes him and looks smug. “A word at dawn in the forest.”

No matter how the cards fall, Elizabet has her freedom at dawn tomorrow. 

They make love that night. Quietly, so as not to be overheard. But as she draws close to her release he has a request. “Look at me. I want to see your pleasure written on your face.” And when she does, the sight of her ecstasy is beautiful. She asks the same of him and he’s all-too happy to oblige. 

Elizabet suspects nothing; thinking it was merely a request made at the height of passion and not an attempt to memorize every expression she makes as she falls apart under his hands before he walks to his possible death. If he is to die at dawn it will be with her face in his mind and her fingertips on his heart.

It’s dawn and Elizabet is snoring softly in their tent. He kisses her on the cheek. 

“I love you, Tempest. Never forget.”

She stirs briefly. “Love you too.” 

Luckily she falls back asleep quickly. Checking his pistol, he confirms it is loaded and returns it to its holster and leaves the tent. 

He’s first to their chosen meeting spot. He watches carefully and notices the rising sun hit the barrel of a rifle up in a tree approximately 100 yards away. Suzette.

The prince arrives. The rifle moves in a way that suggests Suzette is loading it. A rookie mistake, but they did always think so little of him. 

He has 10 seconds before she’s ready to fire. Vasco unholsters his pistol and aims it at his head. 

“Adrien, Suzette is 100 yards that way with a rifle fixed on me. On your signal she will fire.”

The prince eyes him, looking irritated, but unsurprised by the turn of events. “Normally there are pleasantries exchanged when two men agree to talk. I can’t be surprised a Naut never learned his manners.” 

He’s not going to be chided for a lack of manners by this man. “Your wife started it when she aimed her rifle at me. I’m not one for pleasantries with men not worth my time. So let’s keep it brief and I will tell you how you leave these woods alive.” 

“One signal from me and my wife puts a bullet through your skull. You’re a fool, boy.” 

“And the moment Elizabet hears the shot she’s up. And when she finds my body she will kill you both.”

The prince laughs. “You overestimate her. She knows the punishment for regicide.” 

“Assuming you find her. She will run and there are places she can go where no Congregation soldier, assassin or hunter will find her. You kill me, she kills you both.” 

The prince moves his hands and Vasco fires a shot at the ground just short of his feet.

“Move your hands again and you die! Order your wife down. Using your words.” 

Three bullets left. Enough to kill them both if he needs to. 

The prince hesitates, thinking through the options he has available to him. Finally, he says exactly what Vasco had been hoping to hear. “Suzette, lower the gun!”

He watches to confirm she follows his order. When she does, he lowers his pistol but does not holster it. 

“You have one chance to leave these woods alive. I am going to tell you what you are going to do and you will follow my orders.” Vasco speaks coldly and firmly, leaving no room for negotiation or misunderstandings.

“I am a prince! Why would I follow your orders?” He sneers. 

“Because you don’t want to leave this island in a box.” 

His body wouldn’t even make it into a box but there’s no point in mentioning this.

“You kill me and our soldiers will hunt you and when they find you and are finished with you, you’ll wish Suzette killed you in the woods today.”

“No, I kill you and I kill your wife, and Elizabet and I run. Your people will never find us.” He speaks firmly and confidently, ignoring his racing heart. 

“Furthermore,” he continues, “without Elizabet, the peace she’s built on the island falls apart. Her allies, who are helping your people heal the land will walk away, the malichor takes hold once more and your people die slow, terrible deaths.” 

“That would not happen,” the prince responds. He’s unable to hide his nervousness. 

“It would. Why should she help the nation who kidnapped her and her mum? Whose head of state murdered her husband? I die today, you both die, and your nation falls to chaos. I kill you both, we run, your nation falls to chaos.” 

“But if we kill you, she’s alone. Are you really prepared to die to defeat me? To leave her alone and vulnerable?” He’s speaking quickly now, with an air of desperation in his voice. Hoping to appeal to his mortality. As if a life watching the person he loves most in this world suffer chained to a tyrant wouldn’t kill him.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve brushed up against death. I’ve made peace with my death today. Have you?” 

Vasco stares hard at the prince. Adrien tries to remain defiant but the facade breaks and his lip trembles, as if he’s struggling to hold back tears.

“You said there’s a way to leave alive. What are your demands, Naut?”

“Elizabet’s full and complete freedom. Remove her as your heir. Allow her to do what she feels is best in her position as governor.”

“You know what she cost me, yes?”

“Not the exact sum, but I was one of the infants you traded so you could have a pawn to put on the board when the time was right.”

He laughs. “Oh, that is rich. You’re a Naut and you married the woman who forced you into that life!” 

“It wasn’t her. It was you. Because you thought you had the right to kidnap people and that you could control her. And you didn’t even pay the cost yourself! You forced it on other families! How many Congregation families lost a son or daughter for your greed?” 

“Fifteen. Hundreds of thousands of coin worth of debt cleared in exchange for their children to pay my debt to you crooked bastards. Not to mention the location of this damned island was sold to Thélème and the Alliance.” 

“She found the cure, in the end. Take your win, give her the freedom she wants and spend the rest of your life trying to become more than the miserable, pathetic urchin you are. Additionally, you will -“

The prince nods frantically. “I will disinherit her.”

“I’m not finished!” Vasco snaps. 

“You’re overplaying your hand.”

“Would you like to die, Adrien?” Vasco aims his pistol. 

“You’re mad!” The prince cries, raising his hands in the air. A tear escapes his eye and rolls down his cheek and his arms are shaking almost violently.

Adrien is terrified of him and it feels better than he would ever admit.

“To continue, after you so rudely interrupted... You will never contact Elizabet again for any reason aside from business that directly affects New Sérène which will be conducted by letter. If you ever happen to see her anywhere, you will turn in the other direction and flee, because if you ever so much as look her in the eye again, I will find you and I will kill you.”

“And I’ve gone to the trouble of booking you and your wife passage on the voyage leaving for Sérène three days from now. You will be on it. I’ve paid the cost of your travel but I expect you will not thank me for my generosity.”

It wasn’t cheap, arranging their passage, especially so last minute. But he had the coin, in the end. Years of saving the majority of his wages paid off and if they get on that ship and out of Elizabet’s life, it’ll be the best money he’s ever spent.

“There are still matters that demand my attention on the island, I couldn’t possibly accept the last condition.” 

“It’s even harder to close business deals when you are dead, Adrien,” Vasco says, taunting the man. 

“You intend to kill me if I do not agree to leave in three days.” 

Vasco simply gestures with the pistol he has aimed at the prince. 

“One gesture of my hand and you’re dead. Do you really mean to die because I refuse to leave when you want me to?” 

“I do. But you know this already. The question is, do you?” 

“You’re absolutely fucking mad. The Nauts made you a captain?” Adrien screams incredulously, after hiccuping to cover another sob.

“Their youngest in history.” 

“Clearly they’re incompetent.”

The prince is such an easy man to read when he’s frightened and Vasco chuckles to himself. “You lash out because you know you’ve lost. That you underestimated me. The simple fact is I outplayed you when I walked into this forest ready to die for my wife and you have shown me what you desire is not worth your life.”

“Another month. Give me a month and I’ll leave,” he pleads as another tear rolls down his cheek. 

“This is not a fucking negotiation! Three days or I put a bullet through you and you’re dead before you hit the ground.” 

Vasco notices the prince has wet himself out of sheer terror. In this moment all that remains of the cruel man who tormented his wife is a pathetic, snivelling coward unwilling to fight his own battles. A man who has finally learned what it means to be afraid for his life.

“Three days. Lower the gun, please!” He screams through hysterical sobs.

“Have your wife drop her rifle and walk back to camp. Her hands remain visible at all times.” 

“Suzette, drop the rifle and return to camp. Keep your hands in the air. Please, sweetheart, this man is crazy!” 

Vasco watches as she drops her gun, jumps out of the tree and runs back to their camp with her hands in the air. He lowers his gun. 

“Let’s tell my wife the good news.” Vasco wraps his arm around the prince’s shoulder; not an affectionate gesture, but one meant to keep him from trying to run in search of a weapon he could use to harm Elizabet. He needn’t have bothered; Adrien weeps pitifully and he can hardly walk because his legs are shaking so badly. Vasco half carries, half drags the man towards their camp. 

They’re close to camp when he hears Elizabet’s pained cries. 

“Vasco? Love! Where are you?” 

She thinks he’s dead; that the prince took him into the woods and killed him. Something that very nearly happened, but she need never know that. 

“I’m fine, Tempest! Just had a friendly chat, man-to-man with Adrien! We will be back in a moment.” 

She doesn’t wait for him, nor did he expect her to. He hears the sound of twigs breaking and leaves crunching as she sprints in the direction of his voice. When she sees him the panic leaves her face and she throws her arms around him, and Vasco lets go of the prince, who drops to the ground with a startled cry. 

“I thought the worst when you weren’t at camp,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion as she clings to him.

She didn’t even bother to get dressed in her desperation to find him; she is barefoot wearing one of his shirts that is just barely long enough to cover the curve of her rear.

“I am well, Tempest. Adrien, would you care to share the good news with Elizabet?” 

Elizabet turns and looks at the prince curled in a ball on the ground, whose face is red and streaked with tears, who is trembling and trying desperately to hide the wet spot on his trousers. 

The prince notices Elizabet staring at him, stands and clears his throat. “Given your... origins, I have come to realize you are not suitable as my heir. Effective immediately, you have been disinherited, removed as my successor and, consequently, lose all rights to any assets you stood to gain upon my death.” 

His tone is all business. No trace of the terror his voice was laced with minutes ago.

“Very well. I have no need for your blood money, nor have I ever desired it,” she says coldly, though her relief is clear to him as she relaxes in his arms.

“Furthermore, Niece, your aunt has taken ill. Your...husband,” he says the word ‘husband’ as if it is poison on his tongue, “was kind enough to arrange passage on the next ship leaving for Sérène in three days’ time. Given our heavily truncated timeline, I request we leave as soon as I’ve had a chance to complete my morning wash.” 

The man is good at pretending to be dignified, he will give him that. 

“Of course, Uncle. Say the word and we will head back to New Sérène.” 

Elizabet takes his hand and when they return to camp, she looks around to ensure her aunt and uncle are out of earshot. 

“I will not ask what happened out there because I assume I will not approve.”

“Probably for the best.” 

It’s better she know as little as possible. While it’s unlikely the prince will go after him given how thoroughly he frightened him, Elizabet needs to be kept out of it.

“One question: is your life in danger?” 

“Not anymore.”

“Good. Thank you. For whatever you did. You got him away from me.” 

Vasco pulls her into a hug and kisses her temple. “I promised you he would never hurt you again. I was keeping my promise, that’s all.”

***

Adrien and Suzette hastily attend meetings in New Sérène, leaving at dawn and returning to the palace long after him and Elizabet go to bed. Neither of them see the prince or his wife after returning to the city until the morning of their departure. 

Elizabet and Vasco go with the prince and his wife to the port. Ostensibly to see them off, but in reality, Vasco is making sure they board the ship. 

His gun is loaded and holstered at his hip should he need it. 

Elizabet is in good spirits. A weight has been lifted off her. She’d been nervous in the days before; half-convinced the prince would change his mind and force her to be his heir once more. Vasco knew better; the man had wet himself out of terror so Adrien would not dare go back on his word.

Adrien and Suzette check in with the Admiral, who looks at Vasco and gives him a knowing smile. She tells them where they need to board. 

“Niece, this is goodbye, I suppose. Given your choice to remain on the island, I can’t expect our paths to cross again.” He opens his arms for a hug. 

Elizabet extends her hand and offers a handshake instead, letting go of his hand as quickly as possible.

Affectionate Elizabet, who offers a hug or a friendly touch to nearly everyone she meets and who has never previously turned down a hug in all the time he’s known her has refused a hug from her uncle. The message she sends is loud and Adrien looks nervously at Vasco, but refuses to meet his eye.

“Do enjoy what you have, my dear. One day you will come to regret your choices,” Suzette says to Elizabet, who simply stares at her in response. 

Suzette did not have his gun fixed on her so she remains somewhat unchecked. 

“I would recommend boarding, Adrien. Suzette.” Vasco says to them, giving Adrien a look as he taps his fingers on the handle of his gun. Subtly, so Elizabet does not notice the gesture. 

“Your husband is correct, Niece. Goodbye, then.” The prince nods at her in acknowledgement, takes his wife’s hand and the two of them run towards the ship that is to take them across the sea. With his bad knee, the prince’s gait is awkward and the pace is almost certainly painful for him.

“Y’know, I’ve never seen them run before. You must have really frightened him,” she murmurs. 

Vasco doesn’t respond, not wanting to reveal anything more about what happened in the woods and she takes his hand. 

The ship leaves with the tide and Elizabet watches it until it disappears from sight. Then she lets out a breath she’d been holding and gasps, her hands trembling. 

“Elizabet?”

“Does this mean I’m free?” She asks, full of wonder.

“You are.” 

She smiles at him, big and carefree, her eyes swimming with tears of joy and she jumps into his arms and he swings her around as she laughs wildly. 

“The path has been destroyed?”

“It has and you’ve the tools to craft your own path.” 

“Let’s go to the palace. And as soon as I am able to get away, take me to sea.”


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to the continent and an important realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

There was always going to be a moment Elizabet realizes the world no longer needs her as governor of New Sérène. For her, it was the moment she set her eyes on Sérène and sees fields of green, and flowers blooming. No smoke from the pyres to burn those dead of the malichor, or pollution rising from unchecked industry. 

She'd been called to Sérène in a letter received six months prior. Not by the prince, but his regent; a woman named Renee Lacelle who had been a common fixture in his court when they were children and who was about her age. According to her missive, the prince had taken to the country to care for his wife. The wasting disease, apparently, and not the malichor. 

Her condition will eventually be fatal. A tragedy to some, but also an opportunity to marry a younger bride to birth him a new heir. Likely Lady Lacelle, who almost certainly worked her way into her position specifically to present herself as an appropriate match. 

She should feel sorry for Suzette. Adrien too. But she feels no pity for either of them and will be pleased when an heir with a stronger claim to the throne is born. The fear her uncle will go after her once again has never really gone away, despite Vasco’s frequent reassurances. 

Lady Morange is acting as interim governor in her stead while she's on the continent. Elizabet intends to suggest she serve as her permanent replacement. She shares the same vision Elizabet has and New Sérène and the relationships she’s built with its allies will be in good hands with Lady Morange as governor once again.

Vasco was thrilled for the opportunity to spend months at sea instead of the odd trip over to San Matheus or Hikmet and adjusts back to the role of captain of the Sea Horse as if he'd never left it. Elizabet acted as the ship's healer - unofficially, of course, but the entire crew knew to track her down if someone needed tending to. She was kept busy; nothing life threatening, but there’s no shortage of minor injuries or illnesses that need treating on a long voyage.

"I'm going to resign as governor when we return to New Sérène and this will be our life for good," she says as she stands beside him. He's at the helm, guiding the ship into the port. 

He looks at her and his eyes are pure joy, "You're serious? You think Tír Fradí and the continent are ready to lose you?"

"I do. Look at all the green." 

"Aye. The city is almost beautiful." 

Lady Lacelle is waiting for her at the port and recognizes her immediately; unsurprising given her mark. 

"Your Excellency! It is a pleasure to see you once more." She extends her hand and Elizabet shakes it. 

"Your Highness, may I introduce my husband? Captain Vasco - he has just seen to our safe voyage to Sérène." Vasco extends his hand and Lady Lacelle shakes it without missing a beat. 

"Elizabet, I'm needed to oversee the unloading of the ship. Where should I find you tonight?"

Elizabet doesn’t actually know where they’re staying. Lady Lacelle speaks up. "The palace, Captain. I will make sure the staff know to expect you."

She gives him a kiss. "I'll see you later, Love." 

"Your Highness, you are certain the prince is not due to return for the duration of my visit?" 

The plan is for them to stay in Sérène for six months before journeying back to New Sérène. Her goal is to make business connections on the continent and recruit people to come to the island. With any luck, their return voyage will be full of passengers on their way to a new life on the island - whether it's people looking to escape the poverty of the continent or business owners looking to start up somewhere new. 

"No, he intends to remain in the country for at least another year. I receive letters from him regularly." 

It's unlike the prince to be gone from the palace for extended periods of time, even if his wife is terribly ill. She wonders if he's avoiding her - or, more likely, Vasco. Whatever he did to convince the prince to give up his claim to her has shaken him.

"I assume he had made you aware of my husband? Most members of the nobility are surprised to meet him." 

"I had not been made aware you had married. Prince d'Orsay never saw the need to mention it. Being married to a Naut must be interesting. I expect he's not around much?"

"The last few years he has remained at port so we have not been separated."

She doesn't tell Lady Lacelle about their plan to return to the sea for good; it's none of her business and she doesn't want to risk the news getting back to the prince. Better she simply disappears one day and if she’s lucky, the prince will assume she’s dead when word reaches him. Most likely, he will share widely that she has perished - a strategy to save face with the nobility. 

"That must make marriage easier. Or more difficult, for some," she says offhandedly. 

"Vasco makes me very happy." 

"Your Excellency, that much is immediately obvious. The court is sure to find him to be a most curious partner."

"He is unlikely to attend many functions. We've been married for several years now but he is more comfortable leaving such duties to me."

"Separate interests is good in any marriage." 

"May I be so bold as to ask if you are wed, Your Highness?" 

She already knows the answer but prods gently, looking for confirmation of what she already suspects. 

"Please, call me Renee. We grew up together! No, I have not had the opportunity to marry yet, Your Excellency. Someday soon, I hope.”

"Elizabet; if we are to avoid formalities."

They arrive at the palace and enter through the side; the entrance her and her mother used to get to their wing of the palace. It's as if she's gone back in time; nothing has changed since she has left. The portrait of her and Mother remains in its prominent place in the hallway and she stops in front of it and looks at her mother's face for the first time in years. 

The years have healed the wound of her passing and seeing her face makes her smile instead of cry. She misses Mother terribly but fond memories and her gratitude for how she was raised are what she remembers most. 

"Lady De Sardet! I had heard you were visiting!"

Gerrard - the butler rushes down the hallway and bows at her. She's known Gerrard her entire life. A lifetime of service to the royal family has made him stuffy and more than a little stuck-up, but he's always been kind to her. 

"It is good to see you again, Gerrard. I must tell you that my husband will be along in several hours - Captain Vasco. He's dealing with matters at the port following our voyage. Please ensure he is received appropriately and brought to our quarters when he arrives." 

Briefly a shadow of disapproval crosses his face but it disappears and he nods. "I will escort Captain Vasco to you, personally." 

Renee speaks up, “I will take my leave. You’ve had a long journey and should get some rest.” 

“Thank you. Good day, Renee.” 

It’s strange being in her childhood home and even stranger being regarded as the mistress of the home. Gerrard had set her up in her mother’s bedroom but it feels wrong. As if she’s intruding. 

“Gerrard, this doesn’t feel appropriate.”

“Lady De Sardet, you are now head of the household. This is your room now.” 

She doesn’t want to be the head of this household, no matter how temporarily. 

“Can you please put Vasco and I in my old bedroom?” 

There’s a long pause before he nods. “Of course, Lady De Sardet. Come this way.” 

Her bedroom remains untouched. The elegant four poster bed with the emerald green duvet. Floorboards that creak in all the same places she remembers. A bookshelf full of her favourite books from childhood and notebooks full of songs she’s written alongside her most private thoughts, desires and fears.

“If there’s anything you need, please ring the bell, Lady De Sardet.”

“Thank you Gerrard.”

She sits on the bed and smooths the duvet. The last night she spent in this bed was a sleepless one. It was the night before the voyage and Elizabet, broken-hearted and anxious about her inevitable final goodbye to her mother, ended up knocking on the door of her quarters and climbing into bed beside her. Childish, perhaps, but she had wanted to be a child for just one more night before the world expected her to be an adult. 

Little did she know she would meet her future husband the next day.

She tries her best to relax but is antsy. Fearful that Vasco won’t be welcomed into the household unless she’s down by the entrance. Visions of armed guards attacking him fill her mind and she nearly runs downstairs, settling herself in the study next to the front door. Several hours later he comes in and she stands and rushes towards him, pulling him into a hug that’s just a little too tight.

He understands, though and simply pulls her against him. 

“You found your way without trouble?”

“I simply looked for the largest building in the area and asked the gardener outside where I needed to go. He was happy enough to point me in the right direction.” 

“Gerrard must have let the other staff know to expect you.” 

She lets him go, allowing him to pull off his coat and take off his hat. Gerrard appears. 

“You must be Captain Vasco. Allow me to take your coat and hat?” 

“I will manage,” he looks around for a coat rack and finds none.

“There’s a room dedicated to holding the coats of residents and guests, Love.”

“Oh. Sorry - uh - here,” Vasco awkwardly hands Gerrard his coat and hat, and Gerrard offers a quick bow before walking off with them.

“That was our butler, Gerrard. He’s been with the family longer than I’ve been alive.” 

Vasco eyes the hallway and notices the painting of her and her mother and wanders over to it. “Your mother?”

“Yes. And me.”

“Your mark...?”

When sitting for the portrait she was angled to hide her mark. 

“Hidden to avoid scandalizing the other nobility.” 

“Absurd,” he scoffs before softening, “you were a lovely child.” 

“I always liked this portrait. It’s too bad it’s far too large to bring with us.” 

Elizabet gives Vasco a tour, ending with her bedroom. He sits on the bed. 

“What do you think?”

“May I be honest?”

“I know you enough to know you will be, Vasco and I’ve always appreciated that about you.”

“It feels cold. I’m afraid of sitting on the furniture for fear of wrecking something. I never liked the palace in New Sérène but it’s inviting compared to this place.” 

“It felt warmer when Mother was alive. It’s not the same without her. It doesn’t feel like my home anymore. I think everything here technically belongs to the prince now, since he’s withdrawn any inheritance I may have had from my mother.”

Vasco suddenly looks mischievous, as if he’s realized something. “So you’re saying if you take something, you’re stealing from Adrien?”

“Technically. I’d recommend going through the library and taking a few books before we leave for good.” 

“I could use a few new books if we are to return to sea.”

***

Weeks go by. Weeks full of long meetings, fancy dinners and balls. Vasco spends most days at the port, making himself useful however he can. 

It’s been years since she’s worn corsets as frequently as she has while in Sérène. 

Vasco doesn’t object; something he reminds her of one evening as he unlaces her corset. 

“I do love taking you out of these fancy clothes,” he murmurs in her ear as her corset falls to the floor. 

He attends the odd function with her. Which is why he’s beside her at a particularly boring dinner held by the father of a man she grew up with. She never got along with the man as a child and his family is horribly dull. It’s not unpleasant necessarily but she knew it would be just dull enough that Vasco’s company would be a relief. 

Currently the conversation is focused on marriage negotiations and Elizabet and Vasco have been quite shamelessly excluded from the conversation. Because what would the noble eccentric enough to marry a Naut know about marriage negotiations?

She’s half tempted to leave, but she is trying to convince the family to make an investment in several businesses on New Sérène so instead she smiles and nibbles on the fruit in front of her. 

Vasco’s hand moves from the top of her thigh to the buttons at the waist of her skirt. She looks at him and he leans over to whisper in her ear. 

“We’re of no interest to them, why not make our own entertainment?” 

“You’re bad,” she croons. 

“How quiet can you be?” He pops open the first button on her skirt with deft fingers and need floods her smalls.

“They’ll never know a thing.” Years ago she wouldn’t dare do such a thing at a dinner party but she’s about to leave this world behind for good and the thought of Vasco secretly fingering her under the dinner table is incredibly arousing. 

“A challenge, then?” He quickly undoes the other buttons before slipping his hand into her smalls and sliding a finger over her cleft, humming softly with approval.

She concentrates to keep her expression passive and takes a sip of her wine as he circles her clit.

“Lady De Sardet - what was the agreement made before you and your husband married?” 

Vasco does not let up, continuing to rub her clit in slow circles, maintaining a passive expression; the same one used when they’re playing poker. She coughs to camouflage a moan before answering. 

“No agreement, save to love one another as long as we live.” Her voice is hoarse and she wonders briefly if her desire is obvious to those at the table; if they know her husband’s hand is down her smalls, pleasuring her as they make small talk.

“A naive decision, young one,” an older woman at the other side of the table chides her. 

He speeds his movements and she looks down at her lap and takes a deep breath as pleasure coils in her belly. The table, disapproving of her response, has moved on and is content to mostly ignore her and Vasco once more. 

“I intend to make you come right at this table in front of all of these dreadfully boring nobles,” he whispers in her ear. 

She swallows down a whimper and discreetly rocks her hips, chasing her orgasm. His slides a finger inside her, curling upwards as he rubs her clit with his thumb. 

Her pleasure builds quickly and she desperately grabs her wine glass and sips as she comes, allowing her to cover her face as pleasure courses through her. He works her through it, drawing it out before withdrawing his fingers and sticking them into his mouth, licking them clean.

“Best thing I’ve tasted all night,” he whispers, his breath brushing her ear and her cunt twitches. It’s with slight reluctance that he does her skirt up again. 

“These nobles missed the most interesting thing to happen at this table tonight,” she whispers back. 

***

She sits with Renee in the dining room. Her and Vasco leave for New Sérène in the morning and this is almost certainly the last night she will ever spend in the palace. 

She had someone do a sketch of the portrait of her and her mother on Vasco’s suggestion and she got it framed, and had a smaller version made for a locket she now wears around her neck alongside her mum’s betrothal necklace so she will always be with her. 

“Renee, may I speak honestly?”

“You may, Elizabet.”

“I know your plan. Lady d’Orsay is on her death bed and the prince has no heir.”

If she’s shocked Elizabet has figured it out she doesn’t show it. She simply takes a sip of her wine. “Do you disapprove? You are no longer his heir which is something that does not seem to trouble you.” 

“I do not. You are a grown woman capable of making your own decisions. I have one request.”

She does hope Renee knows what she’s getting herself into. That she’s condemning herself to a life chained to an abusive man who will not treat her kindly. But the promise of wealth and status is a draw for many and if Renee doesn’t marry Adrien, there are many other women her age willing to do so.

“Which is?”

“Love his child. Cherish them, tell them you love them and make them feel special. Constantin never heard a kind word from his parents and it hurt him deeply. The prince will not dote on your child so it must be you. Protect them from him.” 

“I was never given kind words as a child and turned out fine. Kind words a soft child makes.”

Elizabet is reminded that her mother is one of very few Congregation nobles who raised her child to know they were cherished.

“No, a child needs to receive love and tenderness! Raise them the way my mother did. There’s no shame in feeling or showing emotions.”

She still struggles to show any emotion in a public setting. But compassion and love are not weaknesses, despite what the prince and other nobility may think.

“I have no interest in ever seeing or hearing from my uncle again so I will never know if you took my advice, but consider it. Please.” She speaks fiercely and with conviction and Renee looks baffled. 

“I will consider it. Will you and Vasco have children?”

“No, we’ve chosen not to have children.”

Elizabet never saw herself as a mother, not even as a child, before she had been told she would never marry. Children never interested her; instead she was focused on the pursuit of knowledge and when she thought of being a mother, she only thought of how they would keep her too busy to properly dedicate herself to her studies. 

Vasco, as a Naut, would never have been able to raise his own children, who would have almost certainly been seaborn and taken away at birth. He’s far better with children than she is; watching him interact with the young Naut children on their voyage to Sérène never failed to put a smile on her face. 

“An unusual decision.”

“We have no need for heirs and are happy with one another.”

“You could have inherited everything he has. Are you not disappointed he deemed you unsuitable to be his heir?”

Of course he would frame the situation as his decision and not Vasco forcing his hand. The man had to save face. 

“While I grew up amongst nobility, it was not what I was born to be,” she says carefully, obfuscating the truth just enough not to reveal it. She’s unsure why she still keeps his secret in noble circles. Perhaps it is merely fear of reprisal if word gets out and he feels his reputation has been tarnished. 

The prince terrifies her and always will, regardless of Vasco’s actions to pull her free from his grasp.

“And what were you meant to be, if I may ask?”

A question that requires a careful answer. “A healer at the side of a commander.” 

***

Elizabet does one more thing before leaving for the port and abandoning the prince’s palace for good. Her mother always loved roses and maintained a small rose garden that she tended to personally. Over the years since her death the garden has seen neglect; the palace gardener is seemingly afraid to touch the garden of the late princess. 

She’s learned to communicate with the plant life on Tír Fradí thanks to her aunt. She can pull vines from the dirt and make a bush or plant grow instantly. At first she’s unsure she’ll be talented enough to make it work on the continent. But she focuses on the rose bushes and feels them respond. So she gifts them with her power, urging them to grow until the garden is full of blooming rose bushes, ten feet tall and gorgeously fragrant. 

Her mother’s garden blooms and prospers once again.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new life begins.

The soft sound of her husband’s breathing fills their quarters on the ship. It’s early morning and Elizabet can’t sleep. Not because of anxiety, but because it’s finally hit her that this is her life. Not formally, not yet, but after she’s settled her affairs on Tír Fradí, she will be a Naut in practice and not just in spirit. 

He sleeps so peacefully at sea. Not that he sleeps poorly on land; much of the time sleep comes easier for him than it ever has for her, but he tosses and turns so much more. It’s the stillness, she thinks. 

“I know you’re watching me, Tempest,” he says, eyes still closed. How does he always know that? 

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. How could I not?” She moves a few stands of hair off his face. 

“Your poor eyes.” 

She scoffs; Vasco is well aware he’s handsome and he can hardly tease her with a straight face. 

“This is our life now,” she says softly. 

“You ready to do this for another 35 years? Until we’re old and grey and ready to retire to Vignamri?” 

“I am.” 

***

Elizabet calls Mr. De Courcillon and Lady Morange into a meeting the day after they arrive back in New Sérène. The three of them sit in her office, and despite weeks of going over the words in her head, she's nervous. 

"I called this meeting to inform you of my intention to resign as Governor of New Sérène, effective one month from today."

Their jaws drop and they look at each other before returning their gaze to her. The silence is painfully awkward so Elizabet starts stammering. 

"It has been an honour for me to serve but it is time for me to walk my own path. One of my own choosing. Lady Morange, I will be recommending you as my successor and you will act as interim governor until your appointment is confirmed."

"Was the regent made aware of your resignation?"

"I would not have risked the success of my mission on the mainland by announcing my resignation before my return to Tír Fradí. I would recommend drafting a letter announcing the change in leadership once I've left."

"We must plan a public celebration to recognize your contributions - not only to New Sérène, but the whole of the island and the continent," Mr. De Coucillon says.  


"No," she says with conviction, "I am no different than any other politician. Placing me on a pedestal will only make the transition more difficult. It must not be seen as a shift in direction."

"Would you consider remaining with us in an advisory capacity?"

"I would not, Lady Morange. I've been governor for close to four years now. I will be departing from the world of politics and will not return."

"What do you have planned?"

"A secret, Mr. De Courcillon. Suffice to say, Vasco and I will be leaving New Sérène."

***

She tells Kurt next as they sit and catch up over tea. She's known him for 18 years now and in a few weeks he will no longer be her Master of Arms.

"I can't say I'm surprised you're resigning, Green Blood. What do you and your captain have planned?" 

Elizabet can tell Kurt, and knows he will keep it discreet. 

"I'm taking my place among the Nauts and Vasco will accept the promotion offered to him shortly after the battle almost four years ago. He is to be a commander and given his own fleet."

"What will you be doing? Will he teach you how to sail?" 

"He taught me a fair bit during our trips to and from Sérène. I've yet to be given my formal assignment but the plan is for me to act as a healer on his ship as well as provide my services to the crew of the other ships in his fleet as needed."

"Guess you won't have need of a master of arms any longer," he says, almost wistfully.

"I've recommended Lady Morange retain your services, should you be interested in continuing. I know you and Commander Sieglinde work closely together and Lady Morange would understand if you'd prefer to shift over to working with her full time."

"We'll figure it out. You'll visit, when you're in New Sérène? I need to make sure my best student gets some practice in once in awhile."

"Of course I will. We could hardly abandon our friends and family here on the island."

"You will be missed." 

Elizabet, who had been trying to remain stoic and professional, breaks her composure. “I'm going to miss you so much, Kurt. It'll be hard not having you around after 18 years."

Kurt pulls her into a hug. "You and your man have wanted this for years. It's a good thing," Elizabet sniffles and nods, "And you won't have to look at my ugly mug all the time anymore," he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. She smiles in response. 

"Every time we are in port I'll visit. And I look forward to hearing about all of the wonderful things you're up to when I do." 

"I'll hardly recognize you when you make port here next. You'll be covered in tattoos. I don't envy you having to sit still through that."

"It's not so bad."

"So your captain says?"

"So I say," she says, smiling mischievously. 

Kurt's eyes widen when he realizes what she's saying. "You have...?"

"Yes. After we married the first time." She unbuttons her blouse, revealing Vasco’s fingerprints on her breast and Kurt reddens a bit at the display. "He has mine over his heart too."

"You still surprise me, even after all these years," he says, eyes carefully averted as she buttons her blouse back up. 

***

The night before they leave, the two of them sneak down to the main entrance hall. At this hour, none of the palace staff are in the hall and the only guards present are outside the palace. 

With them they carry an ornately framed piece of art. A piece that, at first glance, would fit perfectly amongst the sea of portraits, landscapes and renditions of historical events. But upon closer inspection one would find it’s a tastefully nude portrait of the former governor of New Sérène and her husband. 

Vasco hangs it quickly, next to a series of other portraits (of a more traditional sort) and the two of them stand back and take a look at the wall. 

“Far better. The portrait really completes the room,” Elizabet says. 

“We’ll have made an impression on this place.” 

“Next time we’re here in New Sérène I’ll have to talk to Kurt. See if he knows how long until it was noticed and hidden away,” she pauses, admiring the artwork. “The nobles will finally know just how far your tattoos go.”

Vasco turns to look at her. “They’ve asked you that?” 

“A few of them, after several drinks. I did encounter a gentleman once - his name escapes me, who sheepishly admitted that he found you most attractive when asking me this.” 

“And what did you tell him?”

“That he was free to look all he wants but that we are happily married.” 

“I meant about my tattoos.”

Elizabet smirks. “I know, I’m just teasing you. Every time someone asked I told them something different. If any of them ever sat down in a room and talked about you, they’d very quickly discover I’m a filthy liar.” 

“And what sort of lies did you tell them?” 

“I told one person they didn’t go beyond your neck. I told another the exact opposite; that you were tattooed from head-to-toe. One person is convinced you have the names of every person you ever bedded tattooed on your back.”

Vasco snorts. “I met a sailor who did that once. He was a jackass.”

“The person I was talking to was a bit of an idiot and I wanted to leave,” she pauses, taking in what Vasco mentioned you her. “There are people who actually do that? I was purposely being absurd to get out of a conversation with a self-obsessed woman at a party.” 

“There are idiots everywhere. They simply express themselves differently if they’re Nauts.” 

“Your name isn’t tattooed on his back, is it?”

Vasco looks aghast. “I would never! I do have taste.”

“Could have fooled me; you did marry me,” she responds lightly and Vasco grabs her, pulling her close and kissing her lips repeatedly. He holds her face in his hands and looks in her eyes; his gaze shockingly intense for their light banter. 

“You are amazing.” He emphasizes every word and speaks with a conviction that moves her deeply. She takes his hand and kisses his palm. 

“My _minundhanem_.”

After walking out of the palace for the last time, Elizabet and Vasco don't head to port right away. Vasco arranges to have the few belongings they're bringing with them sent to the port for safekeeping, and they make a trip out to see _Modryb_ Slàn. 

The village has flourished in the years since Ullan's eviction, thanks to the leadership of the new _Mal_. The money her and Vasco gave to the village has allowed them to expand and trade with the other communities has increased significantly.

As always, _Modryb_ Slàn seems to sense when Elizabet and Vasco are near, and she is waiting outside her home for them, with a kettle already on the fire. She embraces them both warmly. "It is always good to see you two and I am happy to see you've returned safely from your trip," she says, kissing them both on the cheek. 

Over the years, Vignamri has come to feel more like home than the palace ever did for the two of them. Aside from their recent trip, they've visited every month or two. 

"I am no longer the governor of New Sérène," Elizabet announces over dinner that evening. There's a sparkle in _Modryb_ Slàn's eye as she says this to her. 

"You have a weight lifted off your shoulders; I am unsurprised to hear you have left that life behind. You will take to the sea?"

"Yes. We wanted to spend some time here first, but after we leave, I will join the Nauts and go to sea with Vasco."

"So our visit is to be a celebration of your new lives? I am happy for you both."

"My home port is New Sérène and Elizabet's will be as well. When we are on leave, we will come visit. Vignamri is not especially far from New Sérène." 

They spend two weeks with her aunt. Time spent chatting by the fire, hunting, wandering the forest gathering herbs that will be needed at sea, and potting plants. 

"Bring these plants with you and you will always have what you need on your voyages," Slàn tells her. 

A wave of gratitude washes over her, not just for the plants, but for the knowledge _Modryb_ Slàn gifted her when she taught her how to interact with the nature around her. She knows how to nurture these plants and use them to keep the crew healthy during the long months at sea thanks to her lessons. 

"You have given me so much, _Modryb_ Slàn."

"There is another thing. The air at sea is cold, yes?"

"It can be," Vasco says. 

Her aunt leaves and comes back with several carefully folded blankets made of thick ulg fur as well as two pairs of fine leather gloves. "To keep you warm at sea."

Words escape her at the moment and all she can do is embrace her aunt tightly. Vasco joins her. "Thank you so much; we will cherish them" he tells her.

Before Elizabet and Vasco leave, she pulls her aunt aside and whispers something in her ear. Her eyes are damp and she wipes them before taking Elizabet's hands. "A perfect choice, my _Magem_." 

***

The sun is shining. A perfect day to start a new life. Still, Elizabet is nervous as they make their way to the port. Vasco wraps an arm around her and gives her shoulder a squeeze. 

"You've no need for nerves, Tempest. The admiral will be thrilled to have you in our family at last."

She was born on a Naut ship almost 29 years ago to the day, and today she will be returning to the life she was born into. And Vasco will be named commander, officially fulfilling the prediction Flavia made all those years ago when she told Elizabet he'd be made commander before age 30.

The admiral expects them. "I was wondering when I'd see you after your things were dropped off at the port a few weeks back."

"I've come to accept my promotion, Admiral, if you still see fit to offer it to me."

"It is yours, Commander Vasco." The admiral turns to Elizabet. 

"I wish to take my place among your ranks. A seaborn belongs at sea and I've been away for too long."

"Our commander here will need a doctor aboard his ship and there's no one he trusts more than you.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Tradition dictates that you receive a new name when you join us. Normally only seagiven need a new name, but given your unusual circumstances... have you chosen a name for yourself?"

Her mum's face will always remain a mystery to her but she imagines a blonde woman resembling her, holding her infant daughter, whispering her name to her. 

"My name is Alys."

The admiral smiles broadly at her. "Welcome home, Alys."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we’ve reached the end! When playing the game I had been a bit disappointed that once your character got into a relationship it simply wasn’t mentioned until the very end. So I simply filled in the blanks myself and figured out what the dynamic between them was. 
> 
> Ultimately I wanted to write a coming-of-age story about a woman trying to figure out who she is and where she belongs in the world. And in the end Elizabet has become her own person, free of the expectations of her adoptive family and able to honour her dual heritage in her own way by becoming a healer with the Nauts and taking her original name - Alys. As well, the epilogue frustrated me a bit when it indicated Vasco turned down his promotion; it didn’t feel right that his career was being set aside so I wanted to fix that in their story.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who read and commented! I may post a few one shots providing a glimpse of Alys and Vasco’s life together because I do have a sense of what they get up to in the years following the end of this story.


End file.
